


Storm Clouds & Sunshine

by Em_Cat11



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, It's Catra Loving Hours, Love, POV Catra (She-Ra), Post-Canon, Purring, Redemption, Scorpia (She-Ra) is a Good Friend, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Useless Lesbians, What Happened Next, catradora, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Cat11/pseuds/Em_Cat11
Summary: Takes place immediately during/after the events of S5. Adora and Catra figure out this new world of theirs and deal with the wounds of the past. Plus, Shadow Weaver isn't quite done with them yet....--For so long I thought I was the moth and she was the campfire — I would chase her forever, destroying myself in the process. But that wasn’t right, not anymore. I’m running through this new super-glow world (trust a princess to make things as sparkly as possible) ignoring everything that gets in my way, looking only for one stupid grin.I finally, finally see her, glowing like the sun, hair gleaming behind her as she surveys Etheria. Who knows — I could still be that stupid moth. But I’m going to run to her fire as fast as I can.And then her friends are here and everything is a jumble again, but for the next few confused moments and hours, I hold onto Adora’s hand and onto the fact that I have her right here with me, for now and maybe even for whatever comes next.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 153





	1. The Cat and the Scorpion (or, The Big Stupid Grin Squad)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! New chapter coming soon. Feel free to leave feedback/thoughts/ideas!

**Prologue**

The sky is full of light. That’s the first thing I notice: the entire world is glowing like someone set dandelions seeds on fire. It’s almost headache-inducing and I’m sure it’ll get annoying eventually, but right now it’s just... beautiful. There’s no other word for it. It’s like someone took the sensation I get when Adora smiles at me and filled the world with it. _And I guess that’s… kind of what happened,_ I think wryly.

The light has always gone where Adora goes. Even when we were growing up in the Horde (before she had a magic space alter-ego who literally glowed) the light followed Adora. The memories I have of Horde Prime’s ship are shadowy, full of the perpetual darkness of space, but Adora brought her own light when she came back for me.

I flinch away from those memories instinctively — too much pain, too much _everything_ — but the light all around me, Adora’s light, grounds me back in my body. Here and whole (more or less) because of her.

For so long I thought I was the moth and she was the campfire — I would chase her forever, destroying myself in the process. But that wasn’t right, not anymore.

I’m running, running through this new super-glow world (trust a princess to make things as sparkly as possible) ignoring everything that gets in my way, just looking for one stupid grin. Everything is going completely off the rails around me — Hordak is back and actually cocooned in Entrapta’s hair like a caterpillar — but I only have room for one thought.

_Adora. Where. Is. Adora?_

I finally, finally see her, glowing like the sun, hair gleaming behind her as she surveys Etheria. Who knows — I could still be that stupid moth. But I’m going to run to her fire as fast as I can.

“Adora!” I’ve said her name so many times over the last few years, and almost every time it’s been full of resentment or hatred or a grief so big it feels like killing rage. I still feel the echo of that feeling inside me, like the emptiness that fills your chest after a breakdown. But I’m so happy to see her that it overwhelms everything before this moment.

“Catra!” she says, catching sight of me, shifting from her eight-foot-tall space warrior form into Adora, my Adora. Her voice is so happy it almost makes me break down right there in front of her.

But I can’t dwell on that for long. Before I know it, my legs have carried me to her and she’s holding me, and I’m holding her, and if I didn’t know better I would think that the lights filling the air are my brain shorting out because of how happy I am. 

“It’s over,” she says. “He’s gone.”

“Good riddance,” I say. It would be cool and aloof except I’m pressing my forehead against hers and I don’t think I can ever move, unless moving means getting closer to her.

And then her friends — _my friends?_ Nothing makes sense anymore — are here and everything is a jumble again, but for the next few confused moments and hours, I hold onto Adora’s hand and onto the fact that I have her right here with me, for now and maybe even for whatever comes next.

**Chapter 1: The Cat and the Scorpion (or, The Big Stupid Grin Squad)**

I finally get new clothes. That’s the first time I feel fully sane again, fully back on Etheria, fully free of Prime’s long reach. My hand instinctively goes to the scar at the back of my neck. It feels like there’s still something in there, wires or something, but Entrapta says it’s okay and it’s healing and Adora says to leave it alone.

The clothes help, though. There’s not a very wide selection — apparently Adora has been wearing the same thing every day since she left the Horde? — but the princess castle has some kind of army stock for castoffs like me and I’m able to find a shirt and pants that fit and suit me fine. I wish I could stand in the scalding water of the Fright Zone showers until I finally feel clean again, but for now, a change of clothes will do.

I walk from the supply room through the corridors of Bright Moon, most of them empty except for the occasional armed guard. It’s not that I want to be a prisoner, but it feels weird to walk around free in a place I’ve been trying to take over and/or burn to the ground for the last three years. My feet pad quietly against the stones, claws retracted to make as little sound as possible. I feel the guards’ eyes following me — but that’s their job, I guess. It almost makes me feel better that someone is watching out just in case I fall back into the worst of what I’m capable of.

The castle is big, but it’s no endless-clone-corridor-nightmare, and before I know it I’m back where I came from: some kind of a sitting room (which is apparently exactly what it sounds like, a room where you wait around and talk to people and don’t do anything in particular — _princesses_ ). After the general chaos and crying and hugging and kissing of our victory, the princesses all ended up here for what I assumed is some kind of council but what seems more like a bunch of people lying around sighing hugely and laughing in disbelief.

I hesitate with my hand on the doorknob. Until now, whenever I’ve seen the princesses, Adora’s arm has been wrapped around me like a shield. Walking back now, I’m going in alone.

 _But Adora’s there_ , I think to myself. I vaguely remember her saying something about hiding from the people I hurt, back when my brain was so fractured by Prime’s control that all I could think about was causing pain and hiding from it. There is a moment outside that door where I really seriously consider leaving, just walking away into the Whispering Woods and never seeing a princess again.

Melog materializes next to me so suddenly I feel all my fur stand on end. 

_Why are you standing at the door?_ they ask, sounding impatient. _You have been gone for long enough._

“Melog!” I hiss, “I told you to stay with Adora!”

 _I did,_ they say, unperturbed. _And then I felt you coming back and I thought I would rejoin you. Unless you have decided to leave again._

“I haven’t,” I growl. “I’m going in now.”

Melog cocks their head at me, expressing a world of sardonic disbelief with just that gesture. My irritation is what finally gives me the courage to yank the door open and stalk into the room, and as I do I catch a glimpse of Melog’s smug face. _Damn that cat,_ I think, but I’m still glad when they twine around my ankles. It makes me feel a little more safe when everyone in the room turns to look at me. At least if things go south the two of us can get out of here.

 _They won’t go south,_ I tell myself stubbornly. _Things are different now._

 _You sure about that?_ a snide voice cuts in. _You always mess things up. Why should this time be any different?_

“Oh,” says the water princess in a voice that could dissolve steel, “She’s still here.”

“Catra!” Adora says, breaking into a smile like the sunrise. “You look great.”

“I look like a soldier,” I grumble. “A rebellion soldier.”

She grins at me, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “It suits you.”

Melog shoves my calves from behind and I half-trip towards where Adora is sitting on the sill of a gigantic arched window. Sparkles and Arrow Boy are hovering in the vicinity, but it seems like they’re hanging back for now and I’m too grateful for the space to question it.

“Hi,” I say quietly, angling my hip onto the window next to Adora. “Looks like some people aren’t too happy to see me.”

Adora’s eyes narrow and she shoots the water princess a fearsome glare. I feel my cheeks heat up as she takes her hand in mine. “They’ll get used to it,” she promises in a voice of dark certainty. “You saved us, Catra. You belong here.” Her eyes go back to me and I feel a warm fuzzy feeling run from my heart to my toes. “You belong with me.”

Her bright blue eyes are fixed on mine and for a moment I get lost in them. There was a time when I thought I would never see her eyes look at me again with anything close to love — but now here she is, looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. A blush rises to her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she laughs, “I didn’t mean to be so… yeah.”

My hand goes to her jaw instinctively, tracing the line of her cheekbone. “I… I do belong with you.” I don’t know how to talk to her yet, how to respond to her gesture, but for Adora I can learn.

“So we’re all okay with that?” The water princess’s voice breaks through my focus. I step back from Adora, wrapping my arms around myself protectively. Sparkles and her boyfriend are still flirting in the corner like nothing’s wrong, but the rest of the room is fixed on me. Mermista is next to a glowering ten-year-old, the flower princess, and Entrapta. _None of them have any reason to like me,_ I think. Although Entrapta gives me a little wave with the end of one of her pigtails.

My hand goes to Adora’s instinctively, looking for the bit of comfort I’ve always held onto. I find it and she squeezes my hand, stepping up next to me like she’s about to say something.

But she doesn’t have the chance. Before she can, another voice erupts from behind the cluster of hostile princesses.

“I for one _am_ okay with that,” says Scorpia, barrelling past Mermista with all the confidence of a fighter jet. I can’t believe I didn’t see her there before, towering behind the flower princess — but then, I was focused on the impending threat of watery violence. “You can think whatever you want. I won’t tell you what to do.” Scorpia hesitates, her eyes going to me and then across the faces of the princesses. “I was a Horde soldier too, and I fought against you. But you let me in.” 

She holds her pincers out to Perfuma, and with a numb shock I see Perfuma take one in both her hands. _That’s new_. 

“Catra saved us. She saved all of us. And she… she has a good heart.” Scorpia looks at me then, half-smiling, her eyes brighter than they have any right to be. “If not for Catra, none of us would be here right now. So I for one think she’s earned her place.” 

Scorpia looks across the princesses and seems to deflate a little. “That’s all I wanted to say,” she says with an uncertain grin, stepping in next to Perfuma. I see the flower princess squeeze her arm and then, to my shock, direct a tentative smile my way.

“Well, that’s settled,” Bow says, stepping forward and putting his hand on my shoulder. I fight not to jump or snarl at him, and maybe he senses my tension because he removes his hand a moment later. “Glimmer?”

“Thanks,” she says, stepping past me. I can’t help but notice how much Sparkles has changed, in some hard-to-define but unignorable way. She talks with a self-assurance that was emphatically absent in the kid I tried to drown. Now, people listen when she speaks. In a weird way, it’s good to see. “I want to go over the new ecology of the planet, gather reports on what everyone has seen of the new magic and how it’s impacted your kingdoms —”

I’m not listening. Scorpia says something in Perfuma’s ear that makes her smile a little and squeeze her arm again — I guess it’s a good arm, muscular and everything — and Scorpia slips out the door with a stealthiness I didn’t know she had. Everyone is looking at Glimmer as she goes on about inter-kingdom collaboration and post-war assistance and I slip out after Scorpia without anyone noticing.

Anyone but Adora, that is. I look back and see her watching me go with a worried expression. “I’m fine,” I mouth. “Be right back.”

This doesn’t seem to make her less worried, but she nods and looks back at Glimmer. The fact that she has faith that I’ll return fills my chest with a warm feeling I’m not entirely sure I deserve. I want to go back to Adora and wrap my arms around her and stay there — but Scorpia is moving down the hallway away from me and I push those thoughts down for now.

“Scorpia,” I yell, running to catch up. She stops in a beam of light streaming from one of the enormous windows and actually smiles at me.

“Everything okay, there?”

I skid to a stop next to her, momentarily at a loss for words. I expected her to be cold, cruel even — that would be no more than I deserve. But she was just waiting for me to speak with an expectant expression.

“I —” I start, then stutter to a stop, not sure what to say. “I was terrible to you,” I shoulder on. “I yelled at you, and I hurt you, and Entrapta — I could have done that to you. I could’ve done _worse_ —”

Scorpia holds out a claw to stop me. “Wildcat,” she says gently, “I didn’t forget.”

“Then why…?” I scrub at my eyes, furious to feel tears on my cheeks. Cry one time and all of a sudden you’re a damn faucet.

Scorpia studies me. I notice that she’s careful to leave me space. It makes me feel even worse.

“I always saw who you could be,” Scorpia says. “How strong you are — not because you shut everyone out,” she adds, maybe seeing the way my face twists. “You might not see it now, you’re so dang stubborn I’m sure it’ll take you a long time. But you are _good_.”

I look up at Scorpia. “But you left me,” I say in a whisper, before I can stop myself. “And I deserved it. Scorpia… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For hurting you. And… for not seeing you. I’m going to do better.”

Then Scorpia succumbs to her fundamental instincts and wraps me in a hug, lifting my feet off the ground. “You were being a bad friend,” she agrees, sounding almost _happy_ . “But you’re trying to do better. And conquering trauma, Hordak, _Shadow Weaver_? You were playing with the worst hand in the world.”

I twist in her iron grip, smirking up at her. “‘Conquering trauma’?” I echo, “Who gave you that?”

Scorpia smiles back at me sheepishly. “I may have been talking to Perfuma. A lot,” she admits, blushing. “Just, you know, she’s really easy to talk to!”

“Let me down,” I demand, smiling to make sure she knows I’m not angry, and thankfully she does. With my feet on the ground, she stops for a second, pincers on my shoulders. 

“I’m so glad you joined us, wildcat,” she says, and for some reason the tone of her voice makes me want to start crying again.

“Yeah,” I grumble. “Me too.” And then I remember what I saw in the sitting room and grin wickedly. “It sounds like you and Perfuma have been doing a lot of _talking_ lately.”

“Oh, we have!” Scorpia says earnestly. “She’s really great at working through this stuff, it’s made me feel so much better —”

“Shut up,” I growl playfully. “We both know it’s not just her _stimulating conversation_ you’re after.”

Scorpia sputters, face turning as red as her carapace, and I take the opportunity to make my exit. When I turn the corner of the long Bright Moon corridor, I catch a glimpse of Scorpia still standing on the same flagstone, pinching her claws mutely in indignation, with a big lovey grin splashed across her face.

 _Looks like there’s a lot of that going around_ , I think, and can’t quite stop myself from breaking into a stupid grin of my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in Salineas:
> 
> Mermista: What are you doing? I’m BORED.  
> Sea Hawk: MerMISta! And as beautiful as ever!  
> Mermista: I saw you this morning  
> Sea Hawk: I am developing my greatest work.  
> Mermista: No more shanties.  
> Sea Hawk: This is no mere shanty, dearest. It is an epic retelling of our fight against the formidable HORDE PRIME, our scrappy rebellion, our tales of derring-do... Where are you going?


	2. Moonrise (Or, Melog MVP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melog makes Adora think Catra's having an emergency. But the real emergency is that Catra and Adora are both absolute goons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of an interim chapter, finishing off the day that started in the S5 finale and continues in Chapter 1. Next chapter will have more ~active~ hurt/comfort content (spoilers: Shadow Weaver).
> 
> I accidentally wrote this in third-person past-tense and then had to go back and rewrite it, so if there are any weird tense issues... That's why. 
> 
> Comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think. <3

The last time I was this tired, I was dodging death from Hordak, looking desperately for Scorpia, terrified of what the next day would bring and half-hoping that I wouldn’t make it to sunrise. This is nothing like that — I can’t remember feeling better at the end of a day in years, maybe ever. But it turns out that sitting in on long planning conversations and making nice with the princesses (not to mention the interaction with Scorpia) is fucking _exhausting_.

The sun is going down over Bright Moon, casting long rays of orange and pink across the water that surrounds the castle. Discussions of the big questions facing the world had continued well through dinner, but finally the princesses had dispersed to their rooms. I still have no clue why I’ve been included in these conversations and Mermista at least feels the same way, judging by her glares and snide comments shot across the table. But Adora had kept hold of my hand, and with her sitting next to me, the water princess had at least been prevented from throwing me out of the room. 

Bow had actually  _ asked my opinion  _ on something; that something was the future of the Fright Zone, but still. I’m not sure I should be allowed to walk freely around the castle, much less advise on the future of Etheria. The last time I’d had that much power…

_ You almost killed Adora, and Glimmer, and Bow, and all of their friends, and everyone else on the planet _ , that snide voice reminds me.  _ They shouldn’t be asking your opinion — they should be throwing you in jail, or chasing you to the farthest reaches of Etheria. _

I set my jaw and stare blindly over the beautiful vista of the Whispering Woods. I’m not about to kneel before Queen Glimmer and demand she punish me for my wrongdoings — so for now, it looks like all I can do is enjoy this bizarre turn of events while it lasts.

_ It won’t last, _ the voice cuts in.  _ You don’t need to remind me _ , I think back viciously. Those words have echoed in my mind ever since Horde Prime had been destroyed, every time Adora smiles at me or Glimmer puts her hand on my shoulder.  _ It’s too good to be true. _

“Isn’t it beautiful?” a voice says from behind me. If it wasn’t so familiar, I might have jumped out the window. Instead I turn around, willing the hair on my neck to lay flat again, and see Adora grinning at me with a hint of smugness. It was exactly the kind of smile that in simpler times would have me pouncing on her, the two of us wrestling through the halls and dissolving into giggles as we tried not to be heard. I imagine pouncing on her now and tackling her to the ground, our faces just inches apart, her lips close to mine — 

_ Nope _ , I think, hoping my fur covers my blush. With Adora looking at me like that, I’m half-worried she can read my mind (and if she can, there isn't a hole on Etheria deep enough to hide me).

Adora is starting to look at me with concern now, and I realize I’ve been quiet for too long — actually, I amend, I nearly jumped out of my skin when she came over, blushed beet red, and then didn’t respond to her question. Adora usually can't sneak up on me like that, or throw me so off guard. I must  really be tired.

“It… really is,” I say, more honestly than I mean to.

Adora's smile returns and she steps up next to me. Together we look at the blazing sun, already half-hidden beyond the mountains on the horizon.

“I never get sick of it,” she says. The sunset is reflected in her eyes, purple and blue and gold, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. “I thought everywhere was like the Fright Zone…”

She trails off and I feel my stomach drop. The Fright Zone was hell, absolutely, but it was a hell I shared with Adora, and for as long as I can remember it was my home. I'm tied to the Fright Zone as much as I'm tied to the Horde: it's like a mark on my skin that I can never scrub away. Maybe I’m bringing that darkness back to Adora now, casting a shadow on her new life. Maybe she would be better off with only the light and sparkle of Bright Moon, not dealing with horde scum who had refused to leave the shadows for so long.

Then Adora loops her arm around my waist in a move full of clumsy intent and her trademark (irresistible) awkward sincerity. I freeze, still staring out at the forest and mountains around Bright Moon. It’s not that I don’t want her touch — I do, so much that it feels like the skin where her arm meets my waist is bursting into flames. I want to turn and tuck my head under her chin and nestle there for the rest of eternity. But right now I’m standing stock-still, unable to move, feeling my breath hitch in my chest and my heart race doubletime.

Watching Adora dying in my arms, helpless to do anything but talk to her and tell her she was needed, had been one of the most painful moments in my entire life. But it had been life-or-death, literally, and there wasn’t time to think about the right words, or the tingly feeling in my stomach, or the damn stiff nervousness that was filling all my bones right now. I know Adora and she knows me. We know each other’s bodies like we know our own — we’d trained together, dammit, fought and learned and become who we are together. I’d long since lost count of the number of times we’d play-wrestled in the locker room or slept in the same bunk, her legs against my back. But this… this is different. I don’t want to do too much, or not enough, and drive her away yet again. I don’t think I can survive that.

We stand there for a long moment, Adora’s arm around my stiff frame. Then she drops her arm and steps away a little, making an awkward sound too sad to be a laugh.

“Uh. So. Do you want to see your room?”

I can’t turn and look at her — I can’t handle the disappointment or anger or whatever I’ll find in her eyes. So I spin away from her and bound towards the door. “Yeah, whatever,” I call over my shoulder.

Adora follows at a slower pace; we both instinctively know that this isn’t the time for a race, though maybe that help quell the thumping of my heart and the nausea building in my belly. She takes the lead as the corridors branch: Bright Moon isn’t  _ that  _ big, not compared to the Fright Zone or Horde Prime’s ship, but it’s still plenty big enough to get lost in. The masked guards stand impassive. I wonder what they think of their precious She-Ra escorting the enemy through the corridors.

“Here it is!” she says, and I know her well enough to hear the note of false cheer in her voice. My eyes fall on her face for a second, and she actually looks — worried? Like she’s  _ concerned  _ about me. I push past her and through the door. 

“My room is just like it,” she says, coming in after me. “I’m actually right down the hall, so if you need anything, come and wake me up. The beds can be  _ a lot _ , I think I almost suffocated the first night I was here, but if you get rid of most of the pillows it’s less, you know,  _ fluffy _ …”

“Thanks,” I say. I know I should be brave right now and at least look her in the eye, but all I can do is angle my body towards hers, still scanning the lights and crystals and cushions that dot the room. “I think I can handle a few pillows.”

From the corner of my eye, I can see that she actually  _ blushes _ . She’s so… cute. Precious.  _ Incredible _ . There needs to be a new word to describe what Adora is right now. I wish she never had to leave.

“Okay, it  _ looks _ fine, but wait until you’re stuck in a pillow pile—”

I can’t help but laugh, a little harder than I maybe should, but after a moment Adora joins in. It feels good to laugh with her like this, like maybe we’re not so hopeless after all.

“I should get some rest,” she says, finally subsiding with a giggle.

_ Stay,  _ I think, so loud that I swear she should be able to hear it,  _ Stay with me. _

She’s looking at me with her head slightly cocked to one side, and her gaze goes from my face to the bed and then to the door. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, abashed.

“Well,” she says. “Come get me if you need me. Good night, Catra.”

And then she’s gone, the door shutting behind her before I can say a scratchy, “Good night, Adora.”

I walk the few steps to the bed and sink down onto it like my legs are collapsing.

“Fuck,” I groan at the ceiling. “ _ Fuck _ .”

Adora is right about the bed: it’s more of a situation than I’d given it credit for. When I try to sit back upright, the feathery mattress and many pillows suck me in and I have to struggle back to standing like I’m fighting through quicksand.

Finally free of the cozy deathtrap, I take stock of the situation. All I want to do — all every part of me is screaming to do — is go after Adora. Ask if she wants to sleep here tonight, or if I can sleep with her, it doesn’t matter. Just as long as I can be near her.

But —  _ If she wanted to share a bed tonight, she would say so, _ I tell myself stubbornly.  _ She's the one who left first. Maybe she needs space.  _ I can do that for her. No matter how hard it is.

_ Why did you let her go? _ Melog says, appearing so suddenly that for the second time in an hour I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin.

“I didn’t  _ let  _ her go,” I growl. “Adora can do what she wants. How long have you been there?”

_ I was walking with you _ , they say, unperturbed.

“You can’t just do that,” I snap, a little more angrily than I intend to. Melog’s tail sparks red in response. “You need to give people their privacy, Melog.”

I stalk over to the window and sink down onto the loveseat, covering my face with my hands.

“Don’t listen to me,” I say after a moment, voice muffled. “I didn’t mean it.”

I feel a nose touch my knee and look up. Melog is sitting in front of me, tail swishing behind them.

_ I am sorry,  _ they say, and though it’s hard to tell, their voice sounds earnest.  _ I did not intend to disrespect your privacy. In the future, I shall let you know when I am nearby. _

I let out a gusty breath and smile despite myself. “Thanks.”

_ You are not consoled _ , they observe, leaping to sit on the window ledge next to me and butting my head with their shoulder. I feel the light hum of magical energy running through them like a subsonic purr and lean into it, wishing things were simpler.  _ It is Adora. _

If they’d asked, I might have denied it, pretended I was fine. But they state it with a matter-of-factness that I can't bring myself to resent, so I just nod. I pull up my knees and curl into a ball, hands knotting in my hair.

“I just… I thought things would be different now. Things would be easier. The world is saved, Adora’s alive, what’s left to worry about? But I still… I still don’t know. She kissed me, she said —” I swallow, “— But… Now life goes on, and life is complicated. What if it doesn’t work out?” I bury my face in my knees, hating the need that fills my body, the bone-deep sadness at the thought of being away from Adora.

Melog is silent for a few seconds. 

_ You arouse her, _ they declare finally.

“Melog!” I squeak, batting at their tail. “Wait, really?” 

They turn up their chin and look at me smugly.  _ I can smell it on you both. _

“Ugh.” I shake my head, opting not to ask what else they can smell. “That’s… That's actually good to know.”

Maybe I really  _ should  _ go after Adora. I ache for her kiss, for her arms around me, pulling me close — and I miss the way she tosses and turns in her sleep, the way we used to wake up next to each other. 

_ If she wanted to stay, she would have. _

“I can’t, Melog.”

They scan my face carefully, one ear twitching.  _ Very well,  _ they say decisively and leap down from the windowsill.

“Melog! Where are you going?”

They pause just before the door, look back over their shoulder, and vanish.

“Damn that cat,” I mumble, leaning against the cool glass. Not even Melog wants to be with me tonight. Well, that’s fine. I’m good at being alone.

—

Melog pads through the hallways like a ghost, blending into the shafts of moonlight that shine through the castle’s many windows. They prefer this place to their previous location: after dwelling there for a thousand years, they knew every cliff and stairway and barren rock. Here there are new things to smell and see, sounds they have never heard before, and people — some of whom pet Melog and give them food. And they have Catra, their new kin, who they would protect to the ends of space.

Just before going into Adora’s bedroom, Melog phases back into view.  _ Privacy _ , they think. There is much to learn about this new place. Invisibility is a convenience for Melog, but for their kin they can make their presence known.

Melog steps forward and pushes open the door with their nose. Visible or not, Adora doesn’t seem to notice them enter. Melog can smell the anxiety from here, waves of the same nervous energy that reverberate off their kin tonight. As Melog watches from the door, Adora flips onto her back, groans, and covers her face with a pillow. This is all the confirmation they need: Melog may not yet know the intricacies of life on this planet, but anyone with a nose can smell that these two are getting in their own way.

Melog bound forwards and leaps onto the bed, pushing against Adora’s leg to alert her of their presence. It seems she truly hadn’t known that they were in the room — she screams and pulls a sharp object from under her pillow, brandishing it at Melog for a moment before realizing who it is. Melog sits, hoping this will make them less threatening, and cocks their head to the side.

“Melog!” Adora hisses, eyes like moons. “What are you doing?”

Immediate danger having passed, Melog pounces, landing on her chest with both front paws.

“Stop it!” she squeaks. “Melog, I’m trying to sleep, what’s going on?”

They twitch their tail and look towards the door, then back at Adora, then to the door again. After a few repetitions of this, Adora's face hasn't changed -- she continues to look stressed, tired, and confused.

This… might be more difficult than they had anticipated.

“Is it Catra?” Adora says suddenly, heart rate spiking. _Finally_ , they think. “Melog, did something happen?”

Well, Melog can work with that. They leap off the bed and make their way to the half-open door, pausing on the threshold to look back. Adora throws off the covers and leaps out of bed, sprinting past Melog down the hall.

“Oh no oh no oh no oh no….”

That had not been exactly the reaction Melog was going for, but at least she was moving in the right direction. Melog twitches their ears in annoyance — they seem to be the only one with a lick of sense around here — and follows.

—

The door slams open and I topple from the windowsill with a shriek, falling to the floor on all fours. I can feel my fur stand up in a jagged line along my spine.

“Catra!” Adora yells, running towards the bed and starting to throw pillows aside as if I’d buried myself in them.

“Adora?!” 

She jumps and turns, finally seeing me next to the window. I will my fur to lie flat and stand up slowly.

“Catra! Are you — is everything —” She takes three fast steps towards me and holds out her hand, almost touching my shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on with  _ you _ ?” I hiss, “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

I look past Adora to where Melog is standing by the door, looking smug.  _ Oh _ .

“I thought something happened to you,” she says at a more normal volume, but her eyes are wide and she’s breathing hard. “Melog came to get me…”

She looks panicked, and tired, and even as weird as things are right now, I want —  _ need _ — to do everything I can to make her feel better.

“I’m fine, Adora,” I say, hoping my voice is soothing. “I just… I couldn’t sleep.” I shoot a death glare at Melog over her shoulder. They ignore me, flop down on the floor, and start licking a front paw.

Adora blinks at me a few times and then sinks onto a nearby cushion. “Oh, she says weakly. I notice suddenly that she’s wearing her night things, shorts and a thin top, and while I’ve seen her in pajamas more times than I can count, the sight of her now sends a shiver down my spine.

“You too?” I ask, going to sit next to her, careful to leave space between us.

“I can’t get my brain to turn off,” she says ruefully. “About today and the Heart and—” She blushes and looks away. I feel a tiny seed of hope surge in my heart. “Sorry for bursting in like this,” she adds.

“It’s okay, dummy,” I say, shoving her shoulder with mine. “You’re allowed in here, whenever you want.”

For a second I think I've gone too far and she’ll jump to her feet and retreat back to her room. But after a charged moment, she leans into my touch and puts her head on my shoulder.

I stay perfectly still (except for my tail, coiling in agitation) not wanting to move and break this moment.

“Are you okay?” she asks from my shoulder. This sweet dolt — after saving the entire planet, she’s asking if  _ I’m  _ okay.

“Better now,” I whisper. I think again how tired I must be, to be so honest. But Adora doesn’t pull away. 

I can feel her nod against the top of my head. “Me too,” she says, just as quiet.

“Adora,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed on the round window and the moons rising beyond it, “It’s been a long day. You must be tired. If you…” I swallow and push on. “You don’t have to… stay. If you don’t want to. But you can."

She pulls away and I make a low sound of distress — now I’ve done it, really messed everything up,  _ again _ . But she puts her hands on my shoulders and pulls me to face her. Her eyes are deep blue pools in the moonlight.

“ _ Of course _ I want to stay,” she says fiercely. “I never want to be away from you again.” Her hands tighten on my shoulders for a second. “Unless… unless you want me to go. Then I will.” She squares her shoulders bravely, like she’s about to go into battle.

“You’re such an idiot,” I say, flicking my ear in embarrassment. I'm starting to think that if Adora really is an idiot, then she's in  excellent company.

“So…” Then she grins, that big shit-eating grin I love so much. “My room or yours?”

I feel a blush rising up my neck. “We’re already here,” I mumble. “If that’s okay.” Only Adora can make me feel this way — so awkward and fumbling and happy all at once. Overthrowing gang leaders? Piece of cake. Asking Adora to share a bed? Completely impossible.

I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that I almost don’t notice her lean forward, but then her lips meet mine, and  _ that  _ I notice. I squeak in surprise and she pulls away for a second, brow furrowing. “Is this—?”

I don’t let her finish the sentence, leaning forward to return the kiss. At the Heart, our kiss was desperate, urgent, like a fire igniting in my veins. Now I have time to really think about the feeling of her lips on mine, the softness of her next to me, the little sounds she makes. I lean into her and curl my tail around her waist, feeling relieved and ecstatic and finally, finally home.

After what might have been a few minutes or several starry centuries, we break away, breathing hard. Adora’s eyes are gleaming with tears.

“I love you,” she says, voice shaking.

“I love you too,” I say. “Dummy.”

I notice that Melog has left, presumably at some point during all the kissing. The two of us will have words tomorrow, I vow, but my promise has no bite: right now, all I can feel is grateful for Melog’s nosy interference.

“Were you actually just going to sleep without me?” I tease. Adora blushes but returns my playful glare, a mischievous spark in her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you just going to stay up all night, staring out the window and  _ pining _ ?”

“I wasn’t pining,” I grumble.

“Sure,” she laughs. I feel light and fizzy, like I could float up to the ceiling. Adora scoots back onto the bed and shoves the pillows into a pile on the floor. “Come here.”

My heart is thumping like a wild horse as I crawl up to her and lie on my side facing her, tail coiled around her calf.

She sees something in my face and props herself up on an elbow, peering into my eyes. The room is dark, but the moons send a dim light in through the window.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling into the darkness. “Just… I don't know. Nervous, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she says, letting out a shuddering sigh. “Me too,” she admits. “We’ve slept like this so many times, but —”

“That was different.”

“Yeah.” A few seconds pass. I scoot closer until I feel her thigh against mine. “This is better.”

“Yeah.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “This is the best.”

We lie like that for a long time, long enough that I hear Adora’s heartbeat slow and her breathing become deep and even. I can hardly believe that she can fall asleep so easily next to me, even after everything.

I let my hand gently trace the outline of her face. “Good night, Adora,” I murmur. “See you in the morning.”

Those words feel like the most wonderful promise in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Meanwhile, in Salineas...)
> 
> Sea Hawk: You've returned!  
> Mermista: Only because I have nothing better to do. Sing me your stupid shanty.  
> Sea Hawk: As the lady demands. There are a few introductory verses, a prologue, if you will --  
> Mermista: I WILL leave.  
> Sea Hawk: Very well! Right into verse three -- ahem --  
> "In dark of night they sailed away,  
> Their hopes and friends in disarray,  
> To fetch their queen without delay..."


	3. Long Shadows (or, Leave a Message After the Beep)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief suicidal ideation

It’s barely morning — the sky is just starting grow lighter, casting pale light through the window — when something jolts me awake. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck are standing straight up. I strain my ears to hear if it was a sound, maybe an intruder, that woke me up, but the night is quiet.

Adora is asleep facing me, mouth open, one arm draped over my torso and her legs tangled with mine. Last night we had positioned ourselves carefully, awkwardly, but she must have shifted during sleep to nestle closer. As I watch her in the pale almost-morning light, a stray strand of hair gently stirring in time with her breathing, my chest fills with a fondness so intense it almost feels like heartbreak. For a second I have the urge to shake her awake, stop her looking so vulnerable and trusting and perfect, but my skin is still prickling and luckily I get ahold of myself.

Instead, I gently extricate myself from her arm and slip out from under the comforter. She makes a little noise of discontent and curls her hands into the space where I just was.

 _You’ll be the death of me, Adora,_ I think gruffly.

I could stand here like an idiot all day watching the light move across her face — but my neck is still prickling, and even though everything is quiet, I can’t shake the sense that something is wrong.

It reminds me of the not-quite-audible hum that emanated from Shadow Weaver’s workshop. It had the same flavor as the feeling of her magical grip holding me rigid in the air, nothing but reddish darkness and her mask all around me.

I shake my head roughly. She doesn’t matter anymore. Memories like that can stay in the past, where they belong.

I pad silently to the open window, glad that for tonight at least, Adora seems to be sleeping deeply. She was always a light sleeper — we all were back in the Horde, even Kyle got it drilled into him eventually. She did look exhausted. _And maybe she sleeps better next to you_. I shove that thought out of my head. Whatever the reason, it suits me just fine.

Even though I know what I’ll see, the view outside still takes me by surprise: the lunar spire glowing faintly, the lake reflecting the distant shadow of the forest. Bright Moon has a different shade of beautiful for every moment of the day. It’s annoying.

And the view looks completely normal. I watch a guard make her rounds on the outskirts of the gardens — _wonder who she pissed off to get the dawn shift._ The sky is a little lighter now, pale blues and purples beginning to creep up from the horizon. But that subtle hum is still prickling my skin, creeping between my shoulderblades.

 _Paranoid_ , I tell myself. _We won. Everything is fine._

And then my ears twitch as I hear a faint whistle, almost too quiet even for my sensitive hearing. It sounds like one of Prime’s ships descending at speed, but octaves higher. I leap up onto the window ledge, gripping the curtain with one hand as I lean out over the lake, scanning the horizon.

The drop in my stomach as the gap opens beneath me gives me the fortitude to make my fur lie flat again. I’ve always been able to count on adrenaline.

I can definitely hear it now, a high-pitched whistle growing louder and louder. I search the sky for where the sound is coming from and catch something over the mountains, just a tiny speck of light at this distance. But it’s getting larger every second, and now the sound is loud enough that the guard below looks up too.

Whatever it is is growing larger every second, shooting straight towards the castle. It looks like a ball of dark energy, almost like…

“Adora,” I growl, leaping down and backing away from the window. “Adora!”

She blearily pokes her face out of the covers, and I wish I had time to savor how fucking cute and stupid she looks. “Whazzit — ?”

“There’s something coming, we have to sound the alarm —”

I run to the door, but as my hand closes on the handle, someone throws it open from the other side. Glimmer looks just as startled to see me as I am to see her — and she’s in absolute disarray, hair sticking up in every direction, shirt on backwards, wearing one sock. I don’t have time to say anything now, but I make a note of it for later — and I catch her wide eyes go from me to Adora, still ensconced in bed. I have to suppress a groan. Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t have time for jabs right now.

I drag her to the window. “It’s coming straight for the castle,” I shout over the noise, pointing out the orb, although it’s so obvious now that I don’t need to. It’s zooming over the water, waves of shadows emanating as it soars closer. The sound is piercing, loud enough to wake up everyone in Bright Moon and maybe the dead.

Then Adora is at my back. “Glimmer, get us down there,” she says. Glimmer grabs my wrist, I feel that telltale rush of energy, and a moment later we’re standing in the gardens, sparkles dissipating around us. For a second I think I’m going to throw up, but the orb is really close now, dangerously close — it’s going to hit us if we don’t do anything —

“ _For the honor of Grayskull!_ ” There’s a flash of light from just behind me and She-Ra runs past, shield upheld to intercept the projectile.

“Adora, wait!” I can’t even hear myself. Adora leaps into the path of the orb, braces herself, and— 

Silence.

My ears echo as they adjust to the sudden lack of horrible, ear-shattering noise. Adora is standing in front of Glimmer and I, shield arm thrown forward, face to one side. And a foot in front of her, now silent and hovering a few feet above the ground, is that damn orb.

A moment passes. Adora slowly lowers her shield.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Glimmer says. “... What is it?”

She-Ra looks back at me and her form flickers for a moment, and then Adora is back. I can see the same fear in her eyes as I feel in my own.

“I don’t know what it is,” I say grimly, “But I think I know who it’s from.”

The orb undulates gently in front of us, sending up wisps of purple-red shadow, magic that I’ve only ever seen coming from Shadow Weaver.

Glimmer looks from my face (I quickly adopt a blank expression, not sure how much of what I’m feeling I was showing on my face) to Adora’s clenched jaw, then back at the orb’s sinister aura.

“ _Oh_ ,” she says softly. I can’t help glancing at her. She’s biting her lip, but her eyes are set and determined. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. From what I heard, Shadow Weaver had gotten her claws into Glimmer too.

There are sounds from the castle behind us as the rest of the inhabitants make their slower way outside. Bow is the first to reach us. He looks _much_ more put together than Sparkles, I notice with a smirk — he’s actually wearing exercise shorts and a sweatband. He was probably doing predawn squats or something. Still took him long enough to get here.

“Glimmer!” He runs straight to her, completely ignoring the menacing shadow-sphere as he puts his hands on her arms and scans her face. “Are you okay?”

She laughs slightly and wiggles out of his grip. “I’m fine, Bow! It’s like you’re worried about me or something.”

Satisfied that his — girlfriend? I’m not sure what’s going on there — is intact, he seems to finally notice the imminent threat.

“What is _that?_ ” he asks, voice cracking. 

“I don’t know,” I say, opting with the easy answer. “It flew in from over the mountains. I thought it was another ship at first.”

“You think this is from Prime?” Bow says, voice an octave higher.

“No,” Adora and I say at the same time. Her hand finds mine and I hold it tight.

“Prime is gone,” Adora continues. “He’s not coming back. This looks like Shadow Weaver.” 

She hesitates for a split second before saying the name. Back in the Horde, it always felt like saying Shadow Weaver’s name would bring down her wrath.

“But I thought you said — sorry, didn’t she die?” He’s just confused now, brow furrowed as he looks between us.

“Children! Are you alright?” a voice cries from behind Bow. I see the sorcerer, Castaspella, running towards us across the lawn, pulling a dressing gown over her crisp pajamas. Her hair is somehow already perfect.

“We’re fine, Aunt Casta!” Glimmer trills. I can hear the immediate note of suppressed annoyance in her voice. Another thing Sparkles and I agree on. The sorcerer and I might be on the same side now, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her.

I expect her to run up to Glimmer and shower her in motherly affection, but instead she stutters to a stop a few yards away from us. She’s looking past us — at the orb, I confirm with a look — and her face has drained of color.

“Aunt Casta?” Glimmer prompts after a few moments of silence. “Do you… Do you know what this is?”

She snaps out of whatever that was and steps past us, squeezing Glimmer’s shoulder as she does. Keeping an arm’s length between herself and shadows placidly licking up from the ball, she walks in a slow circle around it. I watch as she sketches a pattern in the air and sends a glowing glyph through the ball; it disappears, and Casta nods slightly.

“Yes, I do. Though it shouldn’t have been… Well.” She gives a brittle laugh. “Apparently not _everything_ was correctly resolved after Light Spinner’s departure.”

“What do you mean?” Adora says. I know I’m holding her hand in a vice grip, tight enough to cut off circulation to her fingers, but I can’t bring myself to let go.

Casta frowns slightly. “There is,” she begins delicately. “A… privilege accorded to highly-respected sorcerers at the academy. After decades of tutelage, many have their own special pupils…”

“Aunt Casta,” Glimmer says firmly. “Get to the point.”

I have to stop myself from grinning at Sparkles: she’s glaring at her aunt with her arms crossed, a fearsome sight even though she still looks like someone dragged her head-first through the Whispering Woods. I feel almost… fond? _Proud?_ Times really have changed.

“Scholars can prepare a few final messages to distribute when they die,” Casta says bluntly. “Putting their affairs in order, so to speak. It _should_ have been one of the privileges stripped from Light Spinner when she was exiled, but apparently the head sorcerer at the time didn’t think it was worth the effort…” Casta subsides into mumbling, which is just as well. No one is listening to her anymore, except maybe Bow.

“So when Shadow Weaver died, she, what, sent us her last words?” Glimmer asks, looking appropriately repulsed.

“There should be a specific recipient, I can check—” Casta says brightly, moving her hands over the ball. Before anyone can stop her, it sends out a crimson flash.

“Adora,” says a voice I never thought I would have to hear again. And then, in a tone as different as night from day, “Catra.”

My vision goes gray for a second, sparks gathering in my periphery. I feel like somebody clubbed me over the head while I wasn’t looking. Everything shrinks down into this tiny pinprick of reality: the sparking orb in front of me and Shadow Weaver’s voice, echoing through my head just like it has a thousand times before. _Catra. Catra._

I’m distantly aware that someone is talking, but it sounds like it’s coming from underwater. I can’t see anything but the orb, hear anything but the disdain dripping from her voice. So I do the only thing I can think to do: I run, ignoring the shouts from behind me. I have no idea where I’m going, just as long as it’s far away from that voice and that familiar magical hum.

I don’t stop until my breath is tearing at my chest and my legs are shaking under me, sprinting across the palace grounds, out of the gate, and up a steep path that leads who-knows-where. I jump from rock to rock, clinging to outcroppings, focusing just on getting _away_ , like if I build up enough speed I can outrun my own mind. It’s never worked before, but maybe that was because I didn’t move fast enough.

Eventually I’m forced to stop, not by my own body but by Bright Moon itself. I’ve managed to climb all the way to the top of one of the jagged cliffs that frames the castle: Etheria stretches in all directions around me and there’s nowhere else I can go unless I fly. Or jump. But I’m not that far gone, not yet — and Shadow Weaver is probably waiting for me in the afterlife too.

I sink to the ground, legs shaking as I finally take my weight off of them. I can hear water rushing somewhere close by and dimly remember the waterfalls that cascade from the top of one of these spires. Doesn’t make any sense — why would the water travel all the way up here just to fall down again?

I know I’m spiraling into nonsense, trying to think about anything but the voice that’s managed to follow me all the way up here.

She was supposed to be gone, she was supposed to have died in a blast of fire — an ending that didn’t quite satisfy my need for revenge, but at least had a certain finality. What did it matter what Shadow Weaver had done, when she was gone forever? She had erased herself. She disappeared like I’d wanted her to do, like I’d _prayed_ for so many times.

But it was fucking Shadow Weaver. Of course she had found a way to reach from beyond the veil and needle us one last time.

I slowly become aware of shivers wracking my body, whole-body shakes that make my teeth chatter. I clench my jaw and curl my arms tighter around myself, willing the shaking to stop. So what if Shadow Weaver has the magically-amplified last word. I don’t need her. I never have.

 _It’s not fair_. The words come to my mind unbidden, unwanted, and I choke out a laugh. _Of course_ it isn’t fair. It never has been. When Adora saved the world and made a new Etheria, I thought it meant we could make a new beginning. But of course that isn’t possible. It never has been.

I stay there for a long time, long enough that the sun is high overhead, scorching through my fur. I hunch miserably under the shade of a craggy outcropping, knowing there’s nowhere else for me to go unless I run away from here for good.

And then there’s the telltale chime of Glimmer teleporting. I curl in on myself further, hoping that she can’t see me — the last thing I want right now is Sparkles’ misguided comfort.

But the voice that speaks next isn’t Glimmer’s.

“Catra?” Adora says, “Are you up here?”

“I don’t see her,” Sparkles says after a moment. She sounds… exhausted, and I feel a momentary surge of guilt for whatever my role has been in her current situation before brutally shoving those thoughts back down. Glimmer has more important things to worry about than one missing defector. “We can check her room again?” She does not sound optimistic.

I wonder where Melog is. I hope he’s napping somewhere in the gardens, unaware of everything that’s happened since dawn this morning.

Adora is quiet for a moment. “That’s okay, Glimmer,” she says at last. “Thanks for taking me around. I think… I’ll just stay up here for a little while. Clear my head.”

“Are you sure?” Sparkles says dubiously, “You can get down by yourself?”

Adora laughs humorlessly. “She-Ra, remember?” Even though I can’t see her, I can picture the stupid face she’s making, maybe even flexing a bicep. 

“Okay,” Glimmer says after a moment. “But if you’re not back by sunset, I’m coming to get you.”

“Deal. And thanks, Glimmer. Really.”

“No problem, Adora,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice, tired though it might be. “I really hope you find her.”

There’s the tinkle of her teleporting again, and then the clifftop is quiet. _Just Adora and me_ , I think, gritting my teeth.

“Me too,” Adora says in barely a whisper. I can hear stones shifting under her feet as she walks across the narrow shelf and settles herself on the stony ground. She’s probably sitting with her legs dangling over the edge, the same way she used to sit in the Fright Zone when we’d sneak out of our beds and find the highest place we could, almost high enough to be out of the perpetual smog.

The sun is still high overhead. Surely Adora has better things to do with her day than wait around up here — but here she is.

“Catra?” she calls. I freeze against the rock, holding my breath. No one can see me like this, _especially_ not Adora. She’s saved me too many times. Now that we’re together again, I’m determined to be there for her. And that means I have to be strong.

“Catra?” she says again, quieter this time. “Are you there?”

I don’t respond. I sit stock-still, listening to the sound of rushing water, knowing that any moment now she’ll make her way back down the cliff and leave me here. Just like I’m supposed to be — alone. 

_I can sneak out when the sun goes down_ , I think, perversely calm. _I’ll go through the Whispering Woods to the Crimson Waste. No one will have to see me again, not Glimmer, not Scorpia, and certainly not Adora —_

Adora’s voice jars me out of my reverie. “I thought maybe this is where you went. It reminds me a little bit of our rooftop in the Horde. Sometimes… That was the only thing that kept me going. Sneaking out at night with you. Us against the world.”

I flinch to hear my own thoughts echoed so directly. When she left, I’d decided… well, I’d decided that none of it meant anything to her. That she was just playing a game all along.

“If I could go back now,” she says, and I’m struck by the sudden darkness in her voice, “If I could travel back in time, I would get us both out of there. We would run and never come back. And… if we got rid of Shadow Weaver on the way, even better.”

I slide soundlessly onto my toes and inch around the boulder, just enough so I can see Adora’s legs, dangling over the cliff like always, and then the profile of her face. She’s staring down at her hands, knotted into fists in her lap.

“I just can’t stop thinking,” she says, a hitch in her voice that makes my heart break, “That maybe if I hadn’t been around, things wouldn’t have been so bad. If I wasn’t there, Shadow Weaver wouldn’t have—” She drops her head and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes.

“Don’t be stupid,” I say, voice raspy with disuse. Adora’s head snaps up and she looks around wildly, trying to find where my voice is coming from. “Shadow Weaver is Shadow Weaver. She was _always_ going to be like that. You’re not always the center of the universe, you know.”

I can see tears spring to her eyes. She’s zeroed in on the boulder and I curl my tail into her line of sight, watching as her eyes widen. No wonder it was so easy to cut her off from the rest of the Rebellion for all those years. Adora is so _intent._

“Catra,” she says. The way she says my name — like she’s glad to say it, glad to find me — almost erases the lingering feeling of my name like a curse in Shadow Weaver’s voice. Almost. “I thought you…” Her eyes flick across the vista below us.

“Thought I ran out on you?” I scoff, ignoring how close I had been to doing exactly that. She quirks her lips sadly and takes a step towards me.

“Maybe,” Adora says softly. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“The mighty She-Ra, scared?”

She takes one more step around the rock. Now I can fully see her and she can see me. Her eyes widen a fraction and I remember that I must look terrible, dusty and covered in scratches.

“Whatever happens next, I don’t want to face it without you,” she says, making deliberate eye contact. She can’t just look at me like that, say things like that like she means them, or I’m going to shatter into a million pieces right here on top of Bright Moon. “Can I join you?” she asks quietly, when it’s clear that I’m not going to respond.

I sit back on my haunches. I expected her to drag me out of here, summon Sparkles to bring me back to my pastel room in the castle. But deep down I know better — this is Adora, after all. She’s always been able to sense what I need, sometimes even better than I can myself.

“Yeah,” I mumble, and she scoots in beside me. She looks better than yesterday, but not by much, with stubborn gray shadows under her eyes.

We sit together in a long silence, each waiting for the other to speak first.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adora asks finally. I can feel her looking at me, but I keep my gaze fixed stubbornly outward. I _don’t_ want to talk about it — there’s almost nothing I want to do _less_ than talk about it. But then Adora wraps my hand in hers and rests her head on my shoulder so easily that it takes my breath away. My hand automatically tightens. Slowly, I rest my cheek on top of her head. 

We fit like this. We always have.

“When I got promoted,” I say, and I’m proud to hear that my voice is steady, “She… Hordak threw her in prison.” I don’t have to say who _she_ is. “I brought her food every day. Anybody else could have done it, but I wanted to see her like that…. Remind myself that she didn’t have power anymore.” I pause and Adora squeezes my hand, waiting for me to continue. “It’s hard work, running an evil empire.” I creak a laugh, but it sounds forced even to my ears. “She told me… she told me I was like her. That she saw herself in me. And…” The bile rises in my throat as I remember how _good_ her touch had felt, how whatever was left of my world had crumbled into nothing when I realized she was gone. After that there had only been the long, long fall. I hadn’t landed for a long time. “She held my face, like this.” Without recoiling, like I deserved to be touched like that. Like I was precious to her. “She stroked my hair. She told me she would help me. And the next time I came back, she was gone.” I try to laugh again, to shake off the pressure that’s building in my chest, but halfway through it breaks and comes out as a sob. “The only reason she… was because she was using me. And then… she went straight to you.”

I press my forehead hard into my knees. After Shadow Weaver was gone, I cut away the parts of my hair that she had touched, scrubbed my face so hard it was chapped and raw for a week. I had been stupid to think I was ever more than a tool to her. I had let myself be used.

Adora’s arm curls around my shoulders and tugs at the hands knotting in my hair, gently loosening my grip until she’s wrapped around my torso. “You’re safe,” she says, and it’s only then that I realize that I’m crying, great silent sobs that shake my body like a leaf. “I’m here. I’m never letting you go.”

We sit like that for a long time, long enough that eventually I run out of tears. I curl into Adora’s chest, shuddering, feeling empty. I’ve cried like that so rarely, and never in front of Adora.

“‘m sorry,” I mumble, scrubbing my face on the back of my hand. Adora’s hand catches my wrist and I reluctantly look up at her. I must look like hell, but there’s only softness in her eyes.

“ _You_ have nothing to be sorry for,” she says fiercely. It seems like she wants to say more, but I bury my face in her chest and her arms wrap around me again, and for now, that’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I expected to finish the full day in this chapter… But the angst wants what it wants. Next up: what’s in Shadow Weaver’s gross voice mails? And how will they get down from here? (jk she-ra can do anything she wants)
> 
> Also, I've set a chapter length for this thing! The specific number of chapters may shift slightly, but I'm aiming for 10-15.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who’s commented and given kudos so far — it truly means so much to me. All questions/thoughts/suggestions welcome!


	4. What Is Owed (or, Rock Climbing With She-Ra)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which these two are absolutely too awkward to function and Catra needs new clothes.
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading. Let me know your thoughts/feedback and see ya soon!

We might have stayed up there until Sparkles came to get us, my head pressed to Adora’s chest, but at some point Adora’s stomach gives the loudest growl I’ve ever heard. I snicker and pull away.

“You got an entire tank in there?”

Adora sticks out her tongue at me. “I didn’t have time for breakfast!”

I avoid her eyes, feeling a surge of guilt. Now I’ve deprived her of a meal on top of everything. I dragged her away from whatever important She-Ra things she should be doing just so I could cry into her shoulder like a baby.

And the fact that I’d needed her — well, that makes it even worse. I can’t meet Adora’s eyes and confront what she thinks of me, whether she pities how weak I am or resents that I’m asking even more of her.

“Let’s get out of here,” I mutter, getting to my feet and realizing just how shaky my legs are. I walk to the edge of the cliff and look down, mildly impressed by how far I’d made it in my mad dash away from Shadow Weaver’s messages. 

I can feel Adora looking at me, but I stubbornly refuse to meet her gaze.

“Guess we should start climbing…”

“Don’t be stupid, you won’t make it halfway down like that,” Adora shoots back.

“Will too,” I grumble, tail lashing around my feet. Adora grins.

“If what you mean by making it back down is _falling_ the whole way.”

I cross my arms. “Yeah?” I say, comforted by this return to familiar territory. “What’s your bright idea? Starve to death?”

I smirk as Adora’s stomach rumbles loudly again.

She grins sheepishly. “Actually, I was thinking more... _For the honor of Grayskull!_ ”

I throw my hand up to shield my eyes from the blazing light. As my eyes adjust, I have to crane my neck to look up the extra few feet into She-Ra’s familiar face.

“Hop on my back,” she says, taking a knee with a little more smugness than is strictly called for.

“You better not drop me,” I warn, wrapping my arms around her neck. Her muscles bunch under my hands as she stands and scoops up my thighs with her elbows. I swallow, mouth suddenly dry. Her arms are firm and muscular, holding me close to her with an easy strength. 

She-Ra’s new outfit reveals a cutout of her toned back not three inches from my face. I expected her to smell like magic and gold and sparkles, but her exposed skin just smells like Adora: sweat and salt and that specific tangy scent she’s always had.

“I need my arms to climb, so hold on with your legs,” she calls over her shoulder. I wrap my legs around her waist obediently and she disentangles her arms. I’m maybe holding onto her hips a little more tightly than strictly necessary, but it really is a long way down.

In all our years of fighting, I’ve never been quite this close to She-Ra. I can feel the shape of her against my body, sending an electric shock through my torso. _Maybe when we get to the castle, she’ll carry me back to my room,_ I think. _I’m sure we could both use a little time to rest…._

And then my thoughts are abruptly cut off as Adora _leaps_ directly off the cliff. I shriek as the air rushes past us, my stomach flying into my throat, and then Adora catches the edge of an outcropping with one hand and swings downward, more slowing her fall than actually climbing. We descend the cliff that took me an hour to climb in less than five minutes.

“You okay back there?”

I still have my legs and arms wrapped tightly around her torso, face buried in her muscular back. At her question, I reluctantly loosen my limbs and drop to the ground. It's a slightly longer drop than I expected; She-Ra really is ridiculously tall. She turns around, still looking smug.

“Show-off,” I say, trying to pretend that my breathlessness is only due to our rapid descent. I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks as Adora looks at me, head cocked to one side, and shifts back into her normal form.

“Are you okay? Was that too much?” she asks. “Sorry, I know She-Ra can be overwhelming sometimes….”

“I’m fine, idiot,” I say, brushing her arm gently with the tip of my tail. “I like being close to you." Adora blushes and I can feel my own face heating up. "We’d better get back,” I add quickly, steering us back into familiar territory. “I don’t want you to starve to death.”

Her stomach grumbles on cue and we turn to make our way down the rocky path back to the castle.

For the first time since climbing off of She-Ra’s back, I notice that we’re not alone on the path. Two individuals have stopped to stare at us, their eyes decidedly unfriendly. I make eye contact with one of them, a Salinean woman with a ridged fin running along the crest of her head, and she gives me a look so full of loathing that I instinctively take a step back.

“Hi,” Adora says brightly, “We were just heading to Bright Moon. Hope you’re having a nice walk.”

“We were,” the other one says, a tall human man with most of his face obscured by a bushy beard. His eyes glint under heavy eyebrows. “You’re the She-Ra, aren’t you?”

“That’s me!” Adora says. “At your service. We really should get going, lots to do —”

“Do you know what _that_ is?” the man continues as though he hasn’t heard her, jerking his chin at me. Adora takes a protective step forward.

“Her _name_ is Catra, and she’s with me.” The cheery note in her voice has dropped away — it sounds like she's about to knock him all the way to the Fright Zone. With all her enthusiasm and energy, sometimes I forget how really powerful Adora is. My heart rate spikes, and not entirely in response to the current standoff.

Adora takes a deep breath and her tone becomes a little less confrontational, though her eyes remain steely. “We’re working on finding ways that former enemies of the Rebellion can make things right,” she says. I glance over at her — that’s news to me, but I guess it does make sense that the princesses would be thinking about something like that. “It won’t be easy, but we want to work together with everyone to find a way forward—”

“Here's a solution,” the Salinean spits, spine bristling. “Turn her over to us. We have ways of dealing with beasts like that.”

“Catra saved Etheria, and she saved me,” Adora growls. The human's hand goes to the saber at his waist, eyes flicking between us. “You put one hand on her…”

“C’mon, Adora, let’s go,” I murmur, pulling on her arm. If we stay here, Adora will do something she regrets. It’s sweet, but I can’t let her go through with it. And honestly, I could do without hearing the details of what these two plan to do to me.

 _Can’t face the music?_ that snide voice in my head asks. _These people are right — it’s what you deserve…._

Adora looks at the duo and then back at me. Her hand twitches into a fist: I know she must be struggling with the instinct to beat these losers to a pulp.

“Catra is one of us now,” she says finally, turning to fix both of them in place with a sharp glare. “And she is under my protection. You so much as _think_ of harming her again, and you’ll answer to me.”

There’s a long, tense moment of silence. Then the man jerks his head and slowly releases his saber, folding his arms in front of him. The Salinean still has her eyes locked on me, a small, sardonic smile playing around her lips.

Apparently satisfied, Adora grabs my hand and pulls me down the road. Glancing back, I can see they’re still standing there, watching us recede into the distance. 

We’re almost out of earshot when the Salinean woman speaks again, too quiet for Adora’s ears to pick up: “Sleep with one eye open, Horde scum.”

—

We walk the rest of the way to the castle in silence. Adora’s brow is furrowed and she’s kicking pebbles along the path like they insulted her hair poof, and I’m not about to speak first. My mind is wrapped like a wire around thoughts of those two and the absolute killer loathing on their faces. I’ve seen expressions like that before — from Octavia, from Hordak, from the enemies I made in the Crimson Waste. It’s the look of someone who has promised themselves that they’ll be the one to see the light leave your eyes.

The eyes of the guards at the gate track us as we walk past. Adora waves to them automatically, still lost in thought. I wonder if the guards feel the same way as the two on the path, if they lost people in Elberon, or Thaymor, or Salineas.

My shoulders slump beneath the weight of the Horde’s destruction. _Even if I work at it every day until I die, there’s no way for me to make up for what happened,_ I realize. _They’re right. I should pay in blood. It's the only way to really finish this._

I glance at Adora. Her eyes are on the ground in front of her, forehead wrinkled as it always is when she’s thinking hard about something. There’s no one I’ve hurt more than Adora, and yet….

“Why did you do that?” I blurt out. Adora jumps, shaking her head as she emerges from whatever line of thought she was immersed in.

“Do what?”

“Talk to those two. Protect me." I can't help a hint of a sneer entering my voice on the last two words, but Adora's compulsive need to throw herself between me and danger doesn't rankle like it used to. Maybe it's because I know where it's coming from now.

We’re in the gardens now, the front door of the palace a little ways in front of us. I can hear voices coming from inside, some general chatter and Bow’s distinctive laugh.

“You’re with us now!” Adora says fiercely. “You saved the world! As far as I’m concerned, you have more than made up for your time with the Horde. And you’re my… my friend,” she finishes lamely, a blush creeping to her cheeks. “I protect my friends.”

Her friend. Okay.

“Always the hero,” I jab, but my heart’s not in it. Still, Adora bites her lip and looks away.

“I didn’t keep you safe,” she says bluntly. “I _need_ to do a better job.” The desperation in her voice makes me look at her, really look at her, for the first time today. Her shoulders are tense, her fists clenched, eyes glinting with an almost feverish light. “I promised, Catra. I _promised_ , and I let you down. With Shadow Weaver and the war and then Horde Prime and…” Her breathing is coming fast now, fast enough that soon she’ll start to hyperventilate.

“Adora —”

“I know you can take care of yourself —” she says immediately, looking stricken.

“ _Adora_. Look at me.” I hold my hands out, and after a moment, she takes them. She reluctantly meets my gaze, and I breathe in slowly, then out again. Closing her eyes, she matches her breathing to mine, just like we did so many times after a hard training session or a run-in with Shadow Weaver.

I don’t know if I have the right words for this, especially after everything that’s already happened today. Maybe whatever I say will only make it worse. But I promised myself that I would try to find the words. For Adora.

“You can’t keep everybody safe all the time,” I start, and immediately think I’ve made a mistake: Adora’s eyes fly open and her face goes white. “ _Nobody_ can,” I continue stubbornly. “You’ve always done your best, and that’s more than anybody else could ever do. More than any sane person would do,” I say, trying a smile. She doesn’t return it, but at least she isn’t looking quite so pale. “You saved Etheria. We won.” I swallow, not sure how to land this rambling speech, or if Adora will even get anything out of it other than concerns about my sanity. I keep my eyes fixed on our hands, still linked between us. “There are a lot of things I wish I’d done differently. But now we have more days to try. And… I want to try. With you. Can we try to take care of each other, together?”

There’s a long silence. When I finally work up the nerve to look at Adora, she’s gazing into my face with tears in her eyes and a smile so soft it takes my breath away. “You,” she says weakly, “have turned into _such a sap_.”

I laugh and knock her shoulder with mine, finally closing the space between us. My heart is pounding like I was the one who climbed down a mountain. But Adora isn’t backpedaling or fleeing or spiraling further into her hero-complex. It isn’t a _yes_ , but it’s something.

“Takes one to know one,” I retort, knowing she can feel the way I’m purring.

Instead of responding, she tackles me, and my exhausted legs betray me and dump me unceremoniously onto my ass. She flops next to me, the move almost equally uncoordinated.

“You okay?” she asks, a crease appearing between her eyes. “I haven’t been able to knock you over in _years_.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I grumble, inspecting my skinned palms. I look like an absolute mess: the sleeves of my standard-issue top are torn and the leggings are pretty much shredded from a combination of my claws and the cliff face. It hasn’t even been a day and I already need to find another set of clothes.

“I miss my uniform," I groan.

“Oh, really? Already nostalgic for the Horde?” Adora teases.

“At least the Horde knew how to make clothes that don’t fall apart in a strong gust of wind,” I shoot back. Adora nods thoughtfully.

“True. The people here tend to prioritize looks over function.” She plucks at her red jacket somewhat sheepishly. “I had the tailors make me two weeks’ worth of this exact outfit, materials and all.”

“I thought so!” I exclaim, leaning back and poking her in the chest with a claw. “Every time I saw you, you were wearing exactly the same thing—”

“It’s durable!” she replies heatedly. “I didn’t see you switching up the uniform —”

“One, I did, and two, it’s a _uniform_! Only you would finally have the opportunity to wear whatever you want and just get twenty of the same outfit, Adora,” I say, rolling my eyes. Though in my current ruined ensemble, her solution is looking pretty good.

Adora looks me over, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“What?” I say suspiciously. “Whenever you get that look, you end up doing something stupid.”

“Just an idea,” she says sweetly, then jumps to her feet and holds out a hand. “Are we going to get food or what?”

I take her hand and let her lever me to my feet, holding back a groan. I’ve had days this tiring in the Horde. Definitely. Just maybe not so many in a row.

Still, as Adora leads me through the entrance hall, cheerfully waving to Perfuma and Bow as we pass, I can’t help but think that walking hand-in-hand with Adora is well worth a few long days.

—

“I asked Bow if we could meet after lunch,” Adora says, her mouth full of food. She’s digging into a dish of sticky rice and what look like balls of meat and spices. I hadn’t known what to get from the enormous array of food available in the dining room, so I followed her lead and now have the same plate in front of me. It’s not always the best idea to follow Adora on food choice — she can eat anything if she’s hungry enough — but the smell rising from my bowl is frankly amazing.

I pull up a chair across from her. The room is crowded, but Adora managed to get us a small table by the window somewhat out of the way of prying eyes and ears. I watch in amusement as she continues to attempt to stuff her face and tell me her plan at the same time.

“I know he’s been thinking about, like, ways to repair relations with people who used to be Horde. He and Glimmer have been talking about it ever since we picked up Wrong Hordak —”

“Adora,” I cut in, “Slow down. Eat. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her mouth clamps shut and she delicately dabs at her face with a napkin, then sticks out her tongue at me. “Why aren’t _you_ eating?”

Honestly, I’ve been distracted by the spectacle she’s making of herself, but I’m not about to say that. I fill my mouth with rice instead of answering and can’t prevent my eyes from going wide.

“Isn’t it good?” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up.

“It’s great,” I say. For a moment we’re just looking at each other and I’m lost in her bright blue eyes — maybe for a little bit too long.

“Um,” she says breathlessly after a moment, “You have rice on your chin.”

I swipe it off, ignoring her laughter, and continue to dig in. “There was some contraband food in the Fright Zone, but it was _not_ like this,” I inform her. “You have this _every day_?”

“You can if you want! But there’s so much to try, I get something new at least a few times a week…” I listen to her prattle on about pasta dishes and fruit and pastries, lost for a second in the way the sun from the tall windows plays across her face, turning her hair to shimmering gold. 

She is so beautiful. This isn’t news to me — I’ve been painfully aware of how gorgeous Adora is for years — but right now she’s truly carefree for the first time in… well, maybe ever. You could never be too happy in the Fright Zone or someone would try to wipe the smile off your face. And we hadn't exactly spent pleasant time together during the war. But now, Adora is glowing.

“Etheria to Catra? You there?” Adora nudges my foot under the table and I come back to reality with a bump. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, and take a risk. “Just thinking about… how great you are.” I chicken out at the very last second, swapping _beautiful_ for _great_ and ending up sounding like an absolute idiot. But Adora grins back at me, apparently fine with the disaster I'm making of my reputation.

“Well, nobody else in Bright Moon can eat like me,” she says seriously. “That _is_ pretty great.”

“Catra!” a voice calls from across the cafeteria, and Glimmer materializes in a burst of light in the seat next to me holding her own meal. I can’t stop a hiss of surprise at her sudden arrival.

“Stop doing that!”

“Sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all. “Are you okay? Adora, you found her? Wow, you look _terrible_.”

“Thanks, Sparkles,” I grumble, digging around in my bowl for any meat I missed. “I was going to get a change of clothes, but Adora was about to die of starvation.”

“She’s right,” Adora says, mouth full.

“Gross,” Glimmer comments before turning back to me. “Are you okay? I know this morning was a lot to handle.”

I blink, feeling my eyes prickle unexpectedly. _Get a grip!_ I think, baffled by the sudden rush of emotion. I want to say something cutting and cover for my momentary lapse, but then I catch Adora’s eye and remember that I’m trying to do better.

“Yes,” I say deliberately. “I’m okay.” That doesn’t seem like quite enough, so I add a stilted, “Thank you for asking. And for helping Adora.” _Although I never asked you to come looking for me_ , I add mentally.

She beams back, and it’s not quite as annoying as it usually is when she throws an arm around my shoulders. “Good!” she replies. “I promised Sea Hawk I would eat with him, I’m trying to figure out how to talk Mermista down, but I’ll see you later!” And she’s gone in another purple flash.

Adora is looking at me with that same soft expression on her face.

“What’s Sparkles doing with Mermista?” I ask, scrambling for something else to talk about. Adora’s face falls into a frown.

“She’s not too happy about the clones,” she admits. “Salineas really took a lot of damage… Most of the alliance agrees that we should give them a place to stay if they need it, but Mermista isn’t on board. Yet,” she adds unconvincingly.

“Right.” I stare into my empty bowl. Adora isn’t saying it, but I’m sure that Mermista’s ire extends to me as well. Fair enough — I had a _lot_ more to do with the destruction of her city than Horde Prime’s brainwashed army. “You _should_ turn me over to the people we ran into earlier,” I say miserably, staring down at my claws as they dig into the table. "They want justice."

“And how’s ‘turning you over’ going to help anybody?” Adora asks fiercely, pointing at me with the end of her fork. “Letting you get torn to pieces? That’s not going to make anything better, that’s just more violence and revenge.” A moment later, I feel her take one of my hands in both of hers. “People are angry, and grieving,” she says in a more subdued tone. “But the way to make things right… It’s not punishing yourself. It’s actually working at helping people. That’s going to do a lot more good.”

I nod slowly, keeping my eyes on the table. I’m not entirely sure that Adora’s right about this. But at least in her version of a just future, there’s a way forward for me. And that’s more than I’ve had in a very long time.


	5. What We Are (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this one! I escaped from civilization to spend a week at a cabin in the woods. :)

After lunch we go to the meeting with Bow — he and Perfuma have taken charge of what Perfuma calls the “emotional rebuilding” efforts, overseeing a committee of princesses and area leaders. While it was nice of them to invite me, it’s immediately pretty clear that my presence is making everyone uncomfortable. A few of the town representatives keep their eyes fixed on me warily, as though expecting me to pounce at any moment, and Bow keeps hedging around the “Horde impact” with quick glances my way when he thinks I’m not looking. After ten minutes of this, I squeeze Adora’s hand and excuse myself, closing the door behind me and listening to the volume of voices inside pick up at my departure.

I’m pacing down the hallway away from the meeting, not wanting to be suspected of listening in, when Melog appears and twines around my calves.

“Where have you been?” I ask with slightly more rancor than I intend.

_ I have been keeping watch on the orb, _ they say, unperturbed.  _ In case it tries to do more harm. _

“So you didn’t bother to come look for me?” I snap, tail lashing.  _ You would have just let me leave? _

_ Adora and the Queen were searching everywhere,  _ they say, voice still calm though their mane shifts to yellow in response to my emotions.  _ Even I cannot keep up with the Queen's magic. And I did not want to hinder their efforts. _

“Maybe I wanted to be invisible,” I grumble, slightly placated. At least Melog hadn’t completely abandoned me as I’d half-feared.

_ That is exactly my point. Are you glad Adora found you? _

I glance back at the meeting room. Was I glad she had found me? Part of me still chafed at being looked after, much less hunted across Bright Moon: Adora had never known how to leave well enough alone. But the thought of staying on the top of that cliff, maybe setting off into Etheria alone again, fills my chest with a gnawing emptiness.

Instead of putting any of this into words, I shrug and continue down the hall, Melog easily keeping pace. I’m not exactly in the mood to relax in my pink-tinted room, but I don’t have the same encyclopedic knowledge of Bright Moon’s dark corners as I do for the Fright Zone, so my options are limited. Maybe when Adora is done with her meeting we can do some exploring.

From my room’s elaborate round window I can clearly see the orb in the gardens, still placidly giving off that crimson-purple flame. Someone has set up a rope fence around it, complete with little silver tassels, and the sight is so ridiculous it almost makes me smile. Sparkles’ aunt has apparently replaced Melog on watch duty and is pacing back and forth a few yards away, muttering to herself and occasionally summoning a journal that she dictates into.

“Did anything happen when you were watching it?”

Melog jumps up onto the sill, mane tinting orange as they catch sight of the orb again.

_ No. It sits and says nothing. But I do not like the way it smells. _

“Agreed.” While I might not have as keen a nose as Melog, I’ve been on the wrong end of Shadow Weaver’s magic enough to recognize its acrid tang hanging in the air like the aftershock of a bolt of lightning.

An hour or so later, Adora pokes her head in the door.

“Hey, Catra,” she says with a smile that drops from her face as she comes to join me at the window. A crease forms between her eyebrows as she looks down at the orb. “You don’t have to stand guard, you know.”

I shrug. Casta might be on official watch duty, but she doesn't know Shadow Weaver like I do. Dead or not, she clearly has more in store for us, and the only one I can trust to keep an eye out is myself.

Adora drags over another pouf and sits next to me, reaching out her hand and snagging mine. These casual touches are still enough to take my breath away. I squeeze her fingers, careful to keep my claws retracted. I’d scratched Adora more times than I could count when we were kids: I was easily startled and tended to lash out on instinct when I wasn’t expecting her touch. My tail curls around her ankle and she smiles in response.

Her hand in mine gives me the courage to ask the question that’s been weighing on my mind all day.

“So when’s the big reveal?” I ask, voice scratchy, jerking my head at the orb. 

The crease between her eyebrows returns; I want to reach up and rub it away, as if by doing that I can erase everything that might hurt her.

“You know,” she says slowly, cautiously. “We don’t have to.”

I blink at her, ears twitching in confusion. “Don’t have to what?”

“Listen to the messages. I talked to Casta, she can just banish the sphere. It’s not  _ required _ that we listen to it.”

A cold chill runs up my spine.

“And then what?”

“And then… we move on,” Adora says, her hand twitching in mine. She’s still looking at the sphere, but her eyes are distant. “That’s it. No more Shadow Weaver.”

I can’t help but laugh, a sharp snicker that reminds me of my time in the Horde. Adora’s eyes dart to my face. “There will  _ always _ be more Shadow Weaver, Adora. She’s never going to let us go.”

Her lips compress into a thin line. “Not if we don’t  _ let  _ her go, that’s for sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, tugging my hand back and walking away from the window. “I didn’t ask for her creepy shadow-ball to come find us. You can’t pin this one on me.”

There’s a long pause. When I look at Adora again, she looks calm, but there’s a flash of something in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean that, Catra.”

I sigh heavily, willing my fur to lie flat again. “I know. With Shadow Weaver… She just…” I gesture helplessly at my chest, unable to communicate how trapped and small I always feel when I think of her. The only way I’ve found to deal with it is lashing out, pushing everything and everyone away.  _ But that was before _ , I remind myself.  _ That’s not what  _ trying  _ looks like _ .

“I’m sorry, Adora,” I say tightly, and find it comes easier than I expect. “It’s not your fault.”

I hold out my hand between us, and for a moment I think she won’t take it, but then she does and smiles a little sadly at me.

“I don’t want to just… vanish her message,” I say slowly. “That feels sort of like letting her win.” My feelings about Shadow Weaver are all jumbled up with Adora and the Rebellion and her death; I can’t pin down a sensation long enough to get a good look at it. I just know that something feels wrong — weak — about ignoring her messages now.  “And... She died for us, Adora. Don’t you think…?”

“We don’t owe her anything!” Adora says immediately, looking appalled. “All she did was hurt us.”

I flatten my ears and lift one shoulder. “She made us who we are,” I mumble. “She made  _ me  _ what I am.”

I can’t make eye contact, but Adora lifts my chin until I’m staring into her bright blue eyes. She looks troubled, confused, conflicted, but her voice is steady.

“No, Catra,” she says. “We made  _ each other _ who we are. We can make our own rules now.”

I wish I could believe her. But Adora has had so much longer than I have to figure out who she is outside of the Horde… maybe all those years of Shadow Weaver have already set my image in stone.  _ You remind me of myself. _

“If you want to listen to her messages…” Adora looks away and sighs. “That’s your choice. I won’t stop you.”

I swallow, needing to ask her one more thing but knowing it might be too much. It’s hard to admit my weakness, but harder still to accept that Adora might refuse. It’s so much easier and safer to just force people to do what you want.

“Will you stay with me?” I ask, forcing myself to meet her eyes, wondering what she sees in mine. “While I listen to the messages?”

Adora blinks, seemingly surprised. I wrap my tail around my own leg to keep it from lashing around my feet and giving me away.

“Of course I will,” she says after a moment. “I’ll always stay.”

I smile back at her gratefully, heart thudding in my chest. 

“Come here,” I say, bringing my face close to hers. Her blue eyes widen in surprise and then crinkle in a smile and she leans forward to meet me. We kiss hard, hungry for each other, as the orb shimmers below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter one, as I wanted to get a new chapter out there before too much time had passed, but part 2 is coming very soon! And then we will finally hear SW’s creepy messages, I promise.
> 
> All comments are greatly appreciated! Your thoughts/feedback are so helpful and really keep me going. <3


	6. What We Are (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of child abuse; gaslighting and emotional manipulation
> 
> All thoughts greatly appreciated. <3

I had stopped in at the stockroom to acquire new clothes before our meeting with Bow — Adora said something about getting cleaned up, which coming from her let me know just how ragged I looked — and acquired a tank top and pants in a slightly heavier material that would hopefully hold up better than the first outfit. I’d also been able to find a few standard-issue breastbands in red and black, and those at least should last me a while.

I fidget, tail twitching, as we stand in a loose circle around the orb: me, Adora, Glimmer (who had insisted on joining us, ostensibly to handle any threats to Bright Moon) and Casta. I’m relieved there aren’t more people here to witness; the way the princesses do things, I half-expected there to be a crowd. More bystanders would not have helped the sick twisting in my belly; it’s all I can do to keep my fur lying flat and a semblance of a blank expression on my face.

The sun is starting to go down over the water, casting long shadows across the gardens. We’re standing in a strip of sunlight, but before too long the shadows will cover us as well.

I glance at Adora: she’s standing very straight with her chin up and her legs planted firmly, an unconscious military position that I recognize as her trying to keep her cool. A crowd wouldn’t have been good for Adora either.

Shadow Weaver’s spell is all or nothing — I can’t access my message without activating Adora’s as well. But Adora hadn’t seemed upset when Casta had informed us of this stipulation, only resigned. 

“What can she say to me? ‘You must save Etheria’? Been there, done that,” she had said, a fake-cocky grin on her stupid face.

Bow had wanted to come (to “provide emotional support”) and had almost insisted on it, but Glimmer had put her foot down. She informed him in no uncertain terms that this was private, and unless Adora or I invited him he would not be attending. It was impressive, and actually sort of sweet; Arrow Boy apologized profusely to Adora and I for being pushy before fleeing. Sparkles didn’t seem aware of the irony.

A similar interaction had taken place with Micah, although thankfully he was easy to convince. Glimmer had reassured him that, between herself and Casta, they were equipped to handle any foul play, and I got the sense that he was somewhat relieved not to have to deal with the situation. From what I understood, he had been something of a protégé of Shadow Weaver back in her Mystacor days. _I wonder if he’s bothered that she sent messages to us and not to him._

I suppress a snicker. Last words from Shadow Weaver was an honor I could have done without.

A few feet away, every inch of Glimmer is tight as a wire. Her hands are fisted in her cloak at her sides and she’s alternating staring at the orb and casting furtive looks at Adora across the circle. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to hear whatever Shadow Weaver is about to say. But her face is set and focused in a way that I recognize. She’s not going anywhere, no matter how painful this might be.

When Shadow Weaver had left the Fright Zone — I flinch away from the pain of that memory — she had come here and tutored Glimmer. While I don’t know all the details, I know Adora wasn't thrilled. And then, under Shadow Weaver’s guidance, Glimmer had balanced the planet, enabling me to open the portal and bringing Etheria out of Despondos.

I imagine that feels like a lot to atone for.

“You know, Sparkles,” I say, “Not that we aren’t delighted you’re here, but there are better ways to apologize. An apology, for instance.”

Glimmer whirls and glares at me, opening her mouth angrily, but then her face unexpectedly loosens and she actually laughs. I stare at her, nonplussed, as she continues to giggle, eyes scrunched closed and arms wrapped around her torso.

“Sorry,” she says finally, through a few final chuckles. “But you — Catra — _you_ are telling me to apologize. That… is rich.”

I flush. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” I grumble, flustered out of pushing the point. But as she turns back to the orb, I think I see a flash of vulnerability in her too-open face. I hope that's a good thing.

Facing the rest of us on the other side of the orb, Casta is… actually holding it together surprisingly well. Her face is set and she’s serious as she looks at Adora and I, businesslike but not cold. There’s a compassion in her eyes that makes me vaguely uncomfortable; she’d actually put a hand on my shoulder before moving into position. Her notebook is hovering in front of her and she’s methodically reviewing the contents as we wait.

I’ve never felt a shred of confidence in Casta before. But she’s clearly taking this seriously, trying to make it as easy on us as possible. I’m actually kind of glad that she’s the one overseeing this process. I trust her to do the magic part right, and that gives me a certain shaky comfort.

“We’re ready,” Casta says, and I’m so on edge that I jump. I see Adora tense out of the corner of my eye. “It’s not a common procedure, but the casting is straightforward enough.” She looks from Glimmer to Adora to me, holding eye contact. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I look over at Adora. Her face is grim, but she nods at me and her eyes soften. “Let’s do this,” she says. I nod mutely.

“Very well.”

Casta raises her arms and a shimmering blue glyph appears in the air before her. As she moves her hands fluidly, components of the circle shift and lock together, and with a pushing movement she sends the symbol forward through the orb.

The change is immediate. The sphere glows black and shadowy tendrils surge into the ground under our feet, momentarily encasing us in darkness. I feel a flicker of panic: this is too close to all the times Shadow Weaver held me in her tendrils, unable to move or scream as I was punished for whatever it was I had done.

But then the shadows recede and a shape appears over the sphere. It isn’t quite a hologram in the style of the First Ones — this image has more of a serpentine, arcing quality, like oil on water. Shadow Weaver’s projected face wavers in shades of red and black, occasionally glitching into spots of kaleidoscopic color. The image is still, her eyes unreadable as always behind the mask, but I can feel her gaze piercing straight through me. Faint outlines of wherever she is come through in the background and I recognize the warehouse where the Rebellion sheltered before the final battle.

“It’s similar to the projections from Mystacor’s mirrors,” Casta says, brow furrowed. “But… wrong, somehow. I suppose the Spell of Obtainment corrupted this as well.”

“Is it dangerous?” Glimmer asks immediately. Adora and I exchange a tense glance.

“I don’t think so,” Casta replies, running another quick spell, “Though I wouldn’t recommend touching it. Shadow Weaver’s magic worked by leaching power from sources around her. It’s running on whatever she used to cast the spell right now, but it could pull power from you or She-Ra.”

“No touching. Got it,” Adora says with a weak smile.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say. “How do we make her talk?”

“The spell recognizes the one it’s intended for,” says Casta immediately, though she looks increasingly worried. “If you address it, it will recognize your voice.”

“I’ll go first,” Adora says, squaring her shoulders. “If that’s okay, Catra.”

I nod, relieved to have a little more time to prepare myself. I’m starting to think that opening these messages was a mistake. Adora takes a step forward, half her face in shadow as the sun slips behind the cliffs of Bright Moon.

“Hi,” she says awkwardly, and I can’t suppress a snort. She sticks out her tongue at me and looks back to the orb. “It’s Adora.”

The image shivers and springs to life. Shadow Weaver blinks and her impassive eyes focus on Adora. Even though it’s just her disembodied head and shoulders, her presence is so strong it’s hard to believe she isn’t really there.

“ _Adora_ ,” she says, the same proud regard in her voice that’s always present when she addresses her favorite pupil. I shove the resentment down — it took me long enough to learn that Shadow Weaver’s manipulation wasn’t Adora’s fault, and no matter what she says, I’m not going to forget it now.

“ _If you are hearing this, you were able to survive the activation of the failsafe and the heart of Etheria has been neutralized. I am so proud of you_ ,” she says, emphasizing every word. I remember confronting her in the warehouse, maybe just moments after she recorded this. She had a chalice of wine in her hand — I wonder if that's impacting her message. “ _You did what was needed. You set the fate of our world above your own life. You stood strong, our lone beacon of hope, regardless of all those around you who sought to hold you back._ ”

I bite my tongue to keep from saying something caustic. I wish Shadow Weaver had lasted longer, just enough to see that Adora loves me and I love her and it was that — not her twisted mind games — that had saved the universe.

“ _I have always known that you would save us, Adora_ ,” Shadow Weaver continues. _“If you are hearing this, I am no longer with you. You may be angry with me. That is understandable.”_ I blink in surprise, ears pricking up. Until now, Adora has been completely motionless in front of Shadow Weaver's image, but now she glances back at me with an equally shocked expression. Is Shadow Weaver about to admit that she was wrong?

“ _Set that anger aside_ ,” Shadow Weaver continues. “ _You have reached this point because of me._ ” 

_And there it is,_ I think bitterly. Glimmer is staring daggers at the projection: if looks could kill, Shadow Weaver would be dead again.

“ _No one else would have treated you as well as I did, favored you among the Horde, shaped you to be powerful and decisive. You are lucky that it was I and not any of the many other powerful figures in Etheria who looked out for your welfare._ ”

Adora flinches. Feeling sick, I almost go to her, but Shadow Weaver is still talking.

“ _A word of warning. I have given you the tools to protect our planet. Do not let yourself be distracted by mundane events or those around you. You are not ordinary, Adora,_ ” she purrs. “ _You are destined for a higher fate. Though the Heart may have been neutralized, you are still our protector. Whatever losses you have sustained… Leave them behind now. They will only hold you back._

“ _We are all relying on you. Do not let me down._ ”

There’s a moment’s pause. Shadow Weaver’s face ripples and for a second I think she’s done. Then a hand comes into frame holding a glass of wine and she drinks from it beneath her mask.

She seems to have said everything she intended to — and I’m distantly aware of a corrosive anger simmering in my chest — but the transmission is still running.

“ _I remember holding you as a baby_ ,” she says, voice unsteady. “ _Even then, I could feel your potential. You had such beautiful blue eyes…._ ”

And then the transmission crackles and cuts off, leaving the four of us staring at the orb.

Glimmer opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Adora is still standing in place as though made of stone and the half of her face I can see is absolutely blank.

“We must —” Casta begins, and clears her throat. Her face is very pale. “We must move onto the next message. Now that the orb has been activated, its duration is limited.”

I don’t know how I will myself to step forward, but my legs are moving, carrying me to Adora. I wrap one of her hands in both of mine.

“Adora,” I whisper, and she jumps, staring at me. A single tear rolls down her cheek. “Are you...?”

“I’m fine,” she says, voice breaking. “It’s your— Do it.”

There are a thousand things I want to say. _Fuck Shadow Weaver. Don’t listen to her. I am so, so sorry._ But she steps back and pulls her hand away, leaving me standing cold and alone in front of Shadow Weaver’s once more frozen face.

“Hey, Shadow Weaver,” I rasp, clinging to the shreds of the defiance that propelled me through life at the Horde. “It’s Catra. What have you got for me?” 

The image shimmers again and springs into motion. Shadow Weaver’s eyes narrow and I feel a thrill of foreboding so intense that I have to hold my breath to keep down the bile.

“ _Catra_ ,” the image says. Her voice is still unsteady, but now it’s clipped and full of ice. I feel a pit open up in my stomach. Even after hearing Adora’s message, a small, stupid part of me had hoped that her words for me would be… comforting. Remorseful, even. But then she speaks again and every shred of hope falls away.

“ _This may be a waste of effort_ ,” Shadow Weaver says, disdain clear despite her impassive, emotionless mask. “ _If I am dead, it is highly unlikely that_ you _of all people will survive."_

 _Jokes on you_ , I think dizzily. I hadn’t lived to spite Shadow Weaver, but now I'm extra glad I did.

“ _You feel that I’ve treated you unfairly. You’ve made no secret of your complaints. But look into your heart_ ,” she says, “ _You know that I gave you what you deserved — and what you needed. I taught you how to control yourself. Without me, you would be nothing. However much you may slander me and fight against that fact, we both know it’s true_.”

I can’t breathe, chest aching, but I keep my eyes on her mask, refusing to look away. Shadow Weaver’s voice turns sickly-sweet. “ _What I told you in the cell is true. I_ do _see myself in you, Catra. You are willing to do whatever it takes to acquire power: if you are still alive, I’m sure you can carve out your own empire. I have one last thing to ask of you, as a partial recompense for what you owe me. Leave Bright Moon, go to the farthest reaches of Etheria, and stay there. Leave Adora to her important work. For once, don’t put your selfish wants before the fate of the world.”_

There’s a noise from Adora behind me, but I can’t tear my eyes away. “ _It’s what’s best for everyone, even you. Trust me on this: I am the only one who sees what you truly are. Now that your purpose has been served, you know you don’t belong with the Rebellion. They will never understand people like us._

“ _Look at those around you, the mistrust they try to hide, and you will know that I am right._

“ _Safe travels, Catra_.”

A roar is building in my ears. For the second time today, I want to run from here and find the deepest, darkest place I can and pull it down around me. The only thing keeping me in place is the knowledge that if I run, Shadow Weaver wins.

Everyone’s eyes are on me. I feel a surge of humiliation: now everyone knows what I am.

I cough out a long, sardonic laugh. “Classic Shadow Weaver,” I say. “I don’t know what I expected.”

There’s a sound from behind me. I turn to see Adora shimmering between her form and She-Ra, face twisted in anger. But even though the transformation is clearly not working, she rushes past me and straight for the orb, raising the staff in her hand to strike at it with a wild cry of rage and pain.

“Adora, no!” I cry, jumping forward to pull her back, but I’m too late. There’s a blinding flash of light that throws me back onto the ground, and as I blink the sparks away and struggle to my knees, I can see Adora. She’s lying on the ground, limp and unmoving, and the orb is gone.


	7. Repercussions (Or, Adora Can't Chill)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Mention of self-harm

“Catra!  _ Catra! _ ” 

I jolt from my haze of panic to see Glimmer standing above me, eyes wide and both hands shining with magic. I’m crouched over Adora, teeth bared and claws fully extended; I’m hardly aware of having gotten there, only conscious of the need to reach Adora and protect her from anything that would dare harm her.

“We have to get her to the castle,” Glimmer says in a tone that would be calm and rational except for the note of panic creeping through. The sparks fade from her hands and I wonder who she was getting ready to fight: the ambiguous threat from Shadow Weaver, or me?

I turn to cup Adora’s face in one hand, careful to retract my claws so I won’t scratch her. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open slightly; the only thing keeping me from absolutely losing my mind is the fact that I can feel the pulse in her neck and see her chest rising and falling.

Glimmer reaches a hand shining with magic out to Adora, but I snarl and force myself between them.

“Catra —” Glimmer says, looking close to losing it herself.

I’m still in full-on fight mode and part of me wants to lash out at Glimmer just to vent a little bit of the frustration — but that won’t help Adora. Instead, I bend over and gather her into my arms, one arm around her back and the other behind her thighs, and stand with some difficulty. I’m no She-Ra, but I’m strong enough and stubborn enough to carry my best friend.

“I’ve got her,” I say, locking eyes with Glimmer and ignoring the burning in my arms.

She rolls her eyes and puts a hand on my shoulder, and then me, Adora, and Glimmer are in Adora’s bedchambers in the castle.

I sway on my feet, feeling the nausea rise as it always does when we teleport. I don’t like being moved from place to place, I don’t like the taste of magic that lingers on my tongue.

“I had her,” I growl.

“Put her on the bed, Catra,” Glimmer says, and her voice is so gentle that it pulls me out of my angry reverie. She’s right: it would have taken me twenty minutes to get Adora up here. I turn and lay her out carefully on the bed, smoothing the strands of hair that have come loose from her ponytail out of her face.

The two of us stand there for a moment, looking at Adora’s limp form. It’s terrifying to see her like this, robbed of her usually unshakable energy and life. I’ve seen Adora asleep countless times, but this is different.

I glance at Glimmer. Her eyes are intent on Adora’s face and she’s worrying her lip in her teeth. I know the right thing to say is an apology, but I can only do so much in one day.

“Thank you,” I say instead. She turns her gaze to me and smiles wanly.

“You really love her, huh?” she asks quietly. I blink, blindsided by the unexpected question. Of all Adora’s friends, I didn’t think Glimmer was so oblivious as to miss  _ that _ .

She laughs a little in response to my incredulous look. “I mean, I know you do. But seeing the look on your face when she—” She shakes her head and falls silent, then turns and grabs both of my hands. I stare at her face, confused and aching and too stunned by the entire situation to hiss and jump away.

“I’ve never seen Adora as happy as she is with you,” she says urgently. “The two of you… Don’t listen to Shadow Weaver. We need you. Adora needs you.”

I stare down at her, a feeling I can’t name rising in my chest. I’m afraid if I open my mouth I’ll start to cry, and my dignity can’t take another hit today.

Thankfully she seems to understand and squeezes my hands one more time before pulling away.

“I’m going to get a doctor,” she says, voice more businesslike. “You’ll watch her?”

I nod mutely. Glimmer hesitates like she wants to say something else, but shakes her head and teleports away. 

I pace back and forth next to the bed, alternating glances at Adora with keeping an eye on the door and windows. It seems like the immediate threat is gone, but if anyone tries to so much as look at Adora, I’m ready.

—

The medic that Glimmer brought, a horned Plumerian with an unacceptably cheerful attitude, had run a diagnostic scan and declared that physically Adora seemed fine except for some muscle strain and exhaustion. “Nothing a night of sleep won’t fix!” they declared merrily. Glimmer must have seen me flexing my claws into the fabric of my pants because she’d given me a warning look and hurried the Plumerian out of there.

I extract my claws from my pants one by one, wincing at the new holes I’d opened in the fabric. Horde-made material could hold up well enough to my usual treatment, but this looks like it might unravel. Ah, well. The Rebellion couldn’t have everything.

It hasn’t been an hour since the ceremony — Bright Moon’s long sunset is in full force past the window — and Adora is still unconscious. I watch her chest rise and fall, cursing the medic even while I pray that they’re correct. Her face is pale and drawn.

“Adora,” I say quietly, leaning forward, “Do you want water?”

They had said to let her sleep, but I had to know if she would be okay.

“Adora,” I say a little louder, putting a hand on her arm. She stirs under my touch, turning her head away from the window. After a few moments, her eyes flutter open.

“Hi,” she says, blinking sleepily. “You’re here. ‘s nice.”

“What was that, idiot?” I ask, tail brushing against her thigh so she knows I don’t mean it, “Attacking the orb? What were you thinking?”

A faint blush appears high on her cheekbones. I can’t help myself from brushing her hair back, my thumb lingering on her temple.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, voice still slurred from sleep.

“I don’t want you to be  _ sorry _ , I just want to know why you would do something so stupid,” I groan. “Casta warned us. ‘Don’t touch the orb. It’ll leech your power.’ So what do you do?”

Adora looks up at me through her eyelashes. “I just… It made me so angry,” she admits. “Shadow Weaver… I just really wanted to shut her up.”

I smirk down at her to hide the warmth swelling in my chest. I still haven’t forgiven Adora for throwing herself stupidly into danger like that, but the idea that she was so upset on my behalf that she wanted to chop the orb in half… It's nice. “Look at miss goody-two-shoes. It almost sounds like you like me.”

She smiles sweetly, ignoring or completely missing the jab. “I do like you,” she says softly, and then her eyelids flutter closed again.

“Adora? Adora?” I lean close to her, looking for a pulse in her neck and feeling an irrational surge of panic. What if, after all this…? But after a long, harrowing moment, I feel her heartbeat, slow and steady. It looks like she’s just gone to sleep again.

I frown. It’s not like Adora to be so… out of it. Even when she was sick or injured in the Horde, she put on a strong face and barreled through. And She-Ra could certainly take a beating without showing anything like fatigue. 

She’s alive. But maybe Shadow Weaver’s orb has done something to her, something insidious and permanent.  _ Trust me on this,  _ the memory of Shadow Weaver’s voice whispers,  _ I am the only one who sees what you truly are. _

And what am I? Someone who hurts those most important to her. Someone whose best isn’t enough to prevent Adora from throwing herself into danger. Someone who ruins everything she touches.

I can’t stand to keep sitting here, looking down at Adora’s wan face, not knowing when or if she’ll wake up again. I stand abruptly: I want to go somewhere, do something, ideally something that involves beating the shit out of Shadow Weaver. That’s unfortunately not possible, but I can at least get some supplies for if —  _ when _ — Adora wakes up again.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper. It feels wrong to leave her like this, but she won't know, and I can’t bear to keep sitting here drowning in Shadow Weaver’s words.

I pause just before opening the door, ears pricking as I pick up voices on the other side. The conversation is muffled by the sturdy wood, but I can make out Glimmer and Casta’s distinctive voices. I press closer, angling my ears to catch their words.

“... never should have allowed it,” Casta is saying. “What would your mother say? What would she think of me?”

“It’s not your fault,” Glimmer’s voice responds. She sounds on the edge of tears.

“Those poor children. I can't believe... That woman, how could she…?”

“Because she’s a fucking bitch,” Glimmer says flatly, and my mouth falls open. Who knew Sparkles could curse like that? And in front of family? “I should have known better. She’s never been anything but rotten, all the way down.”

“I wish we’d never opened it. I wish I’d dispelled the orb as soon as it arrived.” And now it sounds like Casta actually has succumbed to tears. I’ll give her credit for her cool competency during the ceremony, but I could do without her self-flagellation.

“Me too,” Glimmer says, so quietly that I have to strain to hear her. “But it was their decision, Aunt Casta. We  _ had _ to honor that.”

I flinch, feeling the guilt twist my stomach into knots. Adora had been right: we should have just left the messages alone, banished the orb and gone on with our lives. Now Adora was unconscious, maybe severely hurt, and it was all my fault. All because I wanted so badly to hear from Shadow Weaver one last time; all because I was too weak to accept that she had never cared about me at all.

_ You would have spent your life wondering,  _ a rational part of me says, and I grit my teeth. All things considered, it would have been better to wonder. I could never leave well enough alone.

I throw open the door and stalk into the hallway, Casta and Glimmer turning to look at me with identical expressions of surprise and chagrin.

“She’s sleeping,” I growl. “If anybody wakes her up…” I leave the threat unfinished and pace down the hall, not bothering to look back and see if they listened.

Convalescing in the Horde was a private thing: if you revealed your weakness, it was more likely that it would be used against you than you would be tenderly nursed back to health. I didn’t know what to do in this circumstance, but food and water are always good. I would stop by the kitchen, pick up something in case Adora woke up, and return to her bedside. I ignore the part of me that’s whispering that I’m avoiding being with her, looking down at her unconscious face.

Glimmer and Casta are gone by the time I return twenty minutes later, arms full of food, most of which I can’t identify. They’ve been replaced by an impassive castle guard whose eyes follow me as I approach. I don’t have room right now to wonder if they’re just doing their job or if they have a special dislike for me in particular, but I file it away for later.  _ Look at those around you, the mistrust they try to hide, and you will know that I am right. _

I open the door with my elbow and dump my haul next to Adora’s bed, wishing that a simple gift of food was enough to make everything right again. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to look from the pile of food to Adora, and realize with a horrible sinking feeling that the bed is empty.

“No. No no no,” I hiss, leaping onto the bed and throwing the pillows aside, hardly noticing when my claws catch on the edge of a cushion and send feathers flying everywhere. “This isn’t funny, Adora!”

No one answers, and by the time I’ve thoroughly tossed the bed I have to face the fact that she isn’t here. Panic rises behind my eyes, threatening to blind me with an all-too-familiar haze of fear that quickly turns to fury. Adora has left me again. Adora is gone and I’m never going to find her, I’ll never see her again, and it’s all my fault —

I grit my teeth, digging my claws into the skin of my arm until I draw spots of blood. I force myself to push the panic down, lock it up tight in the ball of tension in the center of my chest. I  _ know  _ Adora. She couldn’t have gone far, not as exhausted as she’d been twenty minutes ago. If I could just calm down and  _ think  _ for a second, I could figure out where she’d gone.

_ And put her in chains _ , I growl to myself.  _ That idiot shouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere unsupervised. _

I take a deep, shuddering breath, then another. She couldn’t have left through the door or the guard would have stopped her — or at least let me know that she was gone. I hope. But below the window is a steep drop into the water. A bluff rises a few yards away, but that’s too far for Adora to jump without She-Ra, and surely she wouldn’t be stupid enough to try…

I stare down at the water below, thoughts stuttering to a halt. She wouldn’t. Adora isn’t _that_ dense. 

The water is smooth and still, betraying nothing of what might be under the surface. The sun is fully down now, but the sky is lit up by multicolored streaks of light.

I turn and scan the walls to either side, looking for a ledge or handhold that Adora could have used to get out. There’s nothing next to the window, but I finally notice an overhang above the frame, a little decoration that’s large enough for a hand- or foot-hold. Above that, the domed ceiling begins to level off. It would still be a steep climb, but a rope hangs down from somewhere I can’t see, twirling loosely in the wind.

“Adora, I am going to kill you,” I growl, leaping to the tiny ledge and grabbing the rope, careful to keep my claws retracted. While I’m a better climber than Adora even when she’s in top shape, I'm not about to lose this hint to her location.

It takes seconds to scale to the top of the dome. The rope is tied to an elegant spire topped with an iron carving of a crescent moon: clearly this isn’t the first time Adora has come up here. But she's nowhere to be seen. After a moment of scanning — forest, horizon, more horizon, Bright Moon roofs — I spot a narrow ledge a few feet above connecting this rooftop with the main hall of the castle. Over the edge of the walkway hangs a familiar pair of legs.

“Adora!” I shout, voice breaking, the shreds of my patience giving out all at once. “Get down here!”

A shocked face appears over the ledge and her legs quickly pull up, but instead of climbing down she starts moving down the walkway away from me, clearly in pain but traveling quickly. I curse to myself and leap towards her, catching the ledge with my fingers and pulling myself up. Adora has reached the next dome and is clumsily scaling the side, and as I watch one of her feet slips and she nearly goes plummeting to her death before she catches herself and continues to climb, mouth in a tight line.

“What the  _ hell _ are you doing?” I’m gaining on her, but she’s climbing with a ragged determination and stays just a step away from me. We reach the top of the roof at nearly the same time and she sways, glancing behind her and taking a few steps away, clearly assessing if she can make the jump to the next rooftop.

“Stop,” I hiss. “Just stop.” The anger that’s been simmering in my gut all day is coming to the surface, combined with the panic of thinking I’d lost Adora again. I want to lash out, show Adora that she can’t just do this, that she needs to place a higher value on her own life. “Why are you doing this? Have you lost your mind?”

She looks at me wildly, blue eyes wide.

“I need to go,” she says, breathing heavily. “I just need some time to be alone… To think. I can’t turn into She-Ra. I have to get her back.”

“We do  _ not  _ have to do that right now.”

“Yes, I do,” she grits out, strands of hair coming loose from her ponytail and hanging limply by the sides of her face. “You wouldn’t understand. Nobody understands. I can’t lose her!”

“Why not?” I shout, taking a step forward. Her eyes widen. “Why do you have to do this? Why can’t you just  _ stay _ ?” My voice cracks on the last word but I keep my eyes fixed on hers, challenging her to give me an answer.

“Because she’s right, okay?” Adora shouts. “Shadow Weaver’s right. I’m not normal, I’m She-Ra. It’s my  _ job _ to make sure everyone is safe,  _ no matter what it takes _ . I can’t take a break. I need to be ready  _ now _ .”

She’s breathing heavily and I can see tears shining at the corners of her eyes. She looks on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. I feel the anger abruptly fade, leaving me strangely empty. I take a few cautious steps towards her, half-expecting her to turn and run again. When I get within an arm’s length, I reach out my hands and let them rest softly on her shoulders. Adora shudders at my touch but doesn’t pull away.

“So you’re She-Ra. So what?” I say, staring hard into her face, trying to make sure my words penetrate her thick head. “You’re still a person. You’re still Adora. You deserve to rest. To figure out what  _ you  _ want.”

“I can’t take that chance,” she says, a desperate note in her voice that tears me apart. “Ever since the Heart, I can’t stop thinking about the horrible things that could have happened — that could still happen. What if I drop my guard and someone gets hurt? What if I lose you again? I need to pretend to be okay because everyone is relying on me. Even you.” She swallows hard and puts her face in her hands. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” she says, voice muffled. “Imagining everyone lying there torn apart because I couldn’t save them…”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “You should have told me.”

Adora shakes her head slowly, hair falling around her face as her hair tie finally gives up. Of all the people in the world, I know with an unshakeable faith that Adora deserves to be happy — part of why it had made me so furious when she’d left the Horde and proved that her happiness didn’t need to include me.

I can hear the echo of Shadow Weaver’s words in what she’s saying, reinforcing her belief that she has to be the one to save the day. That she has to stand alone. I have no doubt that She-Ra will come back, but losing her now… Adora must feel powerless.

“You’re not in this alone,” I say softly. “We’re safe right now. But if something happens, if someone comes and tries to hurt us, I will tear them limb from limb.”

“What if it’s not enough? What if they hurt you too?”

I bare my teeth in something like a smile. “I’d like to see them try.” A small smile appears on her face and she reaches up to rub the tears away with the heel of her hand. “Plus, you think Sparkles and Arrow Boy would just sit back and let that happen? Or your squad of princesses? Or even your weird horse?”

She shakes her head slightly, but she doesn’t look convinced.

“Come here,” I say, dropping to my knees and slowly pulling her down with me. “Sit down, you idiot.”

I wrap my arms around her. For a moment she’s tense, and then she turns her head into my chest and makes a low sound that rips my heart apart. I hold her tight as she sobs quietly into my shirt, swearing a world of vengeance to anyone who would so much as think of hurting her.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” I whisper. She shudders and doesn’t respond, but I have to hope my words have gotten through to her.

I sigh heavily, resting my chin on top of her head, filling my nose with her warm smell.

“Running away is my thing, idiot,” I joke quietly, poking her shoulder with my tail. She gives a muffled snort. “I already did that. Come up with a new idea next time.”

“I came up here first,” she says into my shirt. “This has been my place for years.”

“Not my fault you missed hanging out with me on top of the Fright Zone,” I say easily. “Still copying my moves.”

I can feel her smile and it warms me up from the inside.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I say, “We can agree not to hide in the highest places we can find.”

Adora pulls away and grins up at me, blue eyes watery but clear. “Like you said, that’s your thing. I won’t if you won’t.” It’s evident that she means it as a challenge.

“Oh, yeah?” I purr, leaning forward so our foreheads are almost touching. “And what will you give me if I don’t?”

Her eyes widen and her hands tighten around my arms. Then she grins.

“A kiss,” she says, smirking, and it’s my turn to be breathless. Nobody can throw me off like Adora.

“Deal,” I say, knowing I’m blushing. And then Adora leans forward all the way and her lips meet mine. I return the gesture hungrily and she wraps her arms tightly around my shoulders and melts into me in a way that sends an aching pulse through my core. I want Adora, want all of her, right down to her stupid grin.

And then her tongue brushes along my lower lip and I lose the capacity for conscious thought.

We’re up there a long time. When she finally breaks away, lips swollen and pupils dilated, she looks so beautiful that I have to pull her into another long kiss, losing myself in her breath and the way she presses herself against me, fingers tangling in my hair.

“Wow,” she whispers, tracing my freckles with a finger when I finally pull away. Her hair is still down around her face and her eyes shine in the moonlight. I realize it’s gotten fully dark in the time we’ve been up here.

“We missed the sunset.”

“That’s okay. We have plenty of sunsets to see together.”

And of course after that I have to kiss her again and I’m lost, swept out to sea by her eyes and her tongue and the warmth of her so close to me. Etheria could have exploded around us and I wouldn’t notice. The only universe I need is right here.

I’m not sure how we get down from the roof, but eventually we make it back into the room and to the bed. Our kisses are slower now and I feel a flicker of something between excitement and apprehension beneath my collarbone.

“Do you—” I clear my throat, trying to think of the right thing to say, “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Um.” Adora pulls away a little, teeth worrying her lower lip. “I mean, yes. Don’t go anywhere. But, um…”

“What’s wrong?” I leave a careful foot of space around her, worried I’ve crossed a line. I don’t know when I’ll stop feeling like one wrong move will ruin everything.

“Nothing!” she says immediately. “This is great. You’re great. I’ve… never felt anything like this.” She takes a deep breath. “But I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says in a near-whisper. “I’ve never done this before.”

I feel a swell of relief: Adora isn’t mad at me, she’s just not sure what to do. And that I can relate to.

“Me neither,” I admit quietly, sitting down on the bed. I see a flash of surprise in her eyes.

“Really?” she blurts out. “Not that you — I mean, I wouldn’t assume, but I thought, I mean, it’s  _ you,  _ you’re  _ Catra  _ —”

I sink down on the bed, enjoying the way her face flushes and she twists her hands together. How can one person be so many things — powerful, adorable, the sexiest person I’ve ever seen?

“What is that supposed to mean?” I say with a smirk. She blushes even more deeply and sinks onto a nearby pouf like her legs have given out.

“I just… I mean, someone like you. You’re just. Really… beautiful? And amazing? And, um, sexy?” 

She tries to pull her hair into a ponytail, remembers that her hair tie is gone, and lets it drop around her shoulders again with a sound of frustration. The low pulse in my stomach kicks up a notch, flooding my torso with heat.

“Well, I’m new to this too,” I say. “There wasn’t a lot of time for it. And…”  _ And the only person I ever wanted was you. _

She tilts her head curiously. “And what?”

“I… wasn’t really ever interested in anybody else.” I can feel that I’m blushing, could kick myself for sounding like such a complete moron, but Adora smiles. I relax a fraction, but it’s not enough to quell the nervous twisting in my stomach.

Being honest is new for me. In my experience up to just a few days ago, it never led to anything good. Better to push everyone away and keep your feelings locked inside. So what if they never saw the light of day? At least then nobody could use them against you.

I realize I’m staring blankly across the room when I feel Adora come and sit next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Catra?” she asks, eyes searching my face with concern. I realize my claws are out and make an effort to retract them. I lean into Adora’s arm, a purr rising in my chest. The excitement of a moment ago is gone, replaced by the impulse to curl up in a ball and disappear.

“I’m okay,” I sigh. I want Adora, all of her, more than anything. But my body is stiff with fear that I’ll mess something up or open myself up to more hurt. I don’t know what to do, can’t bring myself to make a move — but if I don’t do anything, will I let her down and lose her again?

“Catra,” Adora says like she can read my thoughts, “I… want you. So much. But — there’s no reason to rush this. If we’re going to do this, we should do it right. And that means being honest with each other. I don’t even know if  _ I’m  _ ready,” she admits. “But I’m here. We have forever to figure this out. I’m always going to be by your side.”

“Promise?” I whisper.

“Promise,” she replies.

I bump her chin with the top of my head. “Then let’s go to bed,” I say, teasing, “But just to sleep. This time.”

Even in the darkened room, her soft smile chases the shadows away.

After we wash up and change into night clothes, I nestle into her side in what’s quickly becoming our new pattern. Adora is struggling to keep her eyes open, yawning so wide that I can see her molars.

“Good night, Catra,” she mumbles, turning onto her side and pulling me closer.

“Good night, idiot,” I whisper. I want to stay awake and memorize the lines of her face, relaxed for once in sleep, but the events of today have filled me with a bone-deep exhaustion. My eyes flicker shut of their own accord and I sink into dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally made it through this longest of days! (Or did we?) Let me know your thoughts/feelings/ideas below. <3


	8. Little Sister (Or, Are You Ready to Rumble?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Prime's mind control, mild physical violence/blood

I can feel the nightmare coming from a long way off. My dreams are unsettled: I’m running through the First Ones tunnels under Etheria, searching the maze of dizzying corridors for the distant sound of Adora’s voice. Sometimes it sounds like she’s just around the corner, but when I reach the source of the sound I find myself at a dead end or back where I’ve started. I keep running after the ghostly trace of her voice, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying out in pain, and whenever I look back I can see that I’m being pursued by a slowly growing green light...

And then I skid around a corner and I’m on Horde Prime’s ship. The floor in front of my feet descends smoothly into a pool of shimmering green fluid and the darkness around me is full of hundreds of sets of shining eyes. There are too many clones to count, voices speaking in unison:  _ Cast out the shadows. Cast out the shadows. Cast out the shadows. _

I spin in place, looking for the exit, but of course there isn’t one. I’m trapped in the depths of space, and even if I could find a way out of this room, there’s nowhere to run to. When I turn to face the pool again, Prime is towering over me, too close, smiling in gentle amusement. His extra eyes blink and focus on my face.

“Little sister,” he says. “Do not be afraid. Soon all that troubles you will be swept away in the radiance of my light…"

“Just get it over with,” I grit out.

And then my mane of hair is falling around me like ashes, its reassuring weight disappearing and leaving my throat exposed. The back of my neck burns cold as the chip burrows in like a parasite and Prime’s hand caresses the skin there as intimately as a lover.

_ Cast out the shadows. Cast out the shadows _ , intone the clones.

“Step forward and be reborn…”

Countless hands clamp down on my arms, my legs, holding my head stiffly in place. The clones carry me down into the pool like I weigh nothing, and no matter how hard I strain all I can do is flex my claws helplessly.

I expect the glowing green liquid to be icy cold, but it’s warm as blood and soaks into my fur in an instant. I thrash against the hands holding me but they’re as tight as vices, and even though I promised myself I wouldn’t, I can’t help but open my mouth to scream just as my head is pushed underwater.

The hands release. The liquid is all around me, suffocating me, filling my vision with green, and I can’t find the surface or the bottom, twisting wildly and stretching my hands out for something, anything —

And then a bolt of electricity suffuses the water, crackling through my vision, and I do scream, voice muffled by the fluid that fills my mouth and nose as the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt rips through me….

_ Little sister,  _ Prime says again, but this time it’s thunderous, the loudest sound I’ve ever heard, reverberating inside my head until I almost retch at the pain. With it I can hear the clones again, thousands of voices echoing through my consciousness:  _ All beings must suffer to become pure. All beings must suffer to become pure. _

_ So much anger. So much pain,  _ Prime says, and I clutch my hands to the sides of my face, only dimly conscious that my lungs are burning and I must be drowning. Something grips the back of my head and lifts me above the fluid just enough to gasp a breath of air. The room around me is gone, swept away by the blinding green gleam of Prime’s light.

I see Adora with scratches across her face and a missing tooth, smiling at me behind a crate in the Fright Zone; Adora with her arms spread wide, protecting me from Shadow Weaver; Adora’s eyes finally cold and unforgiving as she slashes the portal in two —

_ Poor sister,  _ Prime whispers.  _ You have suffered so much. Soon it will all be over; soon you will know peace in my eternal light…. _

Shadow Weaver is holding hands with Glimmer, returning to the Fright Zone as a hero; Lonnie is saying,  _ Easy, Catra, Adora’s not here to protect you anymore _ ; Adora is holding me close to her in our bunk, face pressed to the top of my head — 

“Those aren’t for you,” I growl, feeling Prime all around and inside of me, casually rifling through my dark heart.

_ Only through suffering can we come to the light,  _ Prime says, a smile curling his voice.  _ Prime sees all. Prime knows all. Only through me can all this pain come to an end. No more senseless suffering... Your short and tragic life will be redeemed…. _

It’s too much. The pain of Prime in my head, the memories of everything I’ve lost — I can’t hold onto it any more. Every mistake and moment of anger and brief spark of hope has led to this. Glimmer is safe and that means Adora is gone. 

I give up.

I can feel Prime sigh in satisfaction as the last of my defenses fall away and the hive mind rushes through me, sweeping away everything Catra and filling it instead with blinding light, with certainty, with something almost like peace.

The pain is gone. I’m standing next to Prime, all my senses focused on him: every time his hand curls around my shoulder or strokes my hair I feel a thrill of joy. I am exalted in the eyes of Prime…. He has made me anew and given me the chance to show that I am worthy.

With me as his vessel, Prime walks the doomed earth of Etheria as the sky fills with green light. We watch Bright Moon dissolve and the last shards of the Rebellion go up in cleansing flame. The Heart devours the princesses and the magic that mars this place before tearing into the sky in pursuit of the stars.

But this is wrong, this isn’t how it had happened — Adora had returned and saved me from Prime. She pulled me free from his hold on my mind and carried me back to her ship and healed me…

_ No one comes for you, sister,  _ Prime whispers inside my head. _Through the blessing of_ _ my light, we do great things…. _

And the part of me that’s still Catra is getting smaller and smaller as Prime’s voice grows deafening.  _ You have been honored among us… This vessel will not last me long…  _ I stare at my fingers as they grow long and white, and with a searing pain I feel two new eyes tear open on the left side of my face —

And I wake up with a shuddering gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed and only stopping myself from screaming with both hands pressed over my mouth.

Next to me, Adora mumbles something in her sleep and rolls onto her other side. I’m in Bright Moon. Adora is safe. Prime is dead.

My skin is flushed but I’m shivering with cold, every inch of me drenched with sweat, heart beating so loud that I’m surprised it doesn’t wake Adora. I slide out from under the covers, legs shaking as I pad to the open window and gulp the cool outside air.

My hand goes to the back of my neck, rubbing the raised scar where the chip used to be. I run my fingers over the tiny indents and bumps carefully, trying to determine what’s scar tissue and what’s something more. Entrapta must have missed something: I can feel wires inside of me, fragments of his technology still leeching off of my nervous system. I press down on the scar with my claw hard enough to hurt.

With a quick glance at Adora, I slip out of the room and close the door quietly behind me. Entrapta hasn’t returned to Dryl yet, which means she’s somewhere in the castle, which means if I can find her she can go back in and take out the rest of the chip. But all the hallways in Bright Moon are the same, identical doors and crystals and plants, and even though it looks nothing like Prime’s ship there’s something about the architecture that makes me feel trapped in the exact same way.

I can feel my breath coming faster, panic beginning to cloud my vision as the hallways stretch on and on. 

_ Get it together _ , I growl to myself, digging my claws into the palms of my hands. Maybe Entrapta is sleeping on Darla — she’s been working on the ship pretty much nonstop since the battle, and I’m sure she’d prefer the beds there to Bright Moon’s suffocating hospitality. I change course abruptly, heading to the first floor. Last I’d seen Darla, she was parked on the far western end of the gardens.

Finally emerging from a side door, I round the corner of the building to see the ship’s hull twinkling in the distance. The grass is wet with dew under my bare feet as I pad across the lawn, creatures sculpted from hedges and vines looming on either side of me like monsters frozen in time. A familiar fountain appears ahead of me and I angle my course to go around it when —

“What are  _ you  _ doing here?”

I jump and spin, claws fully extended, recognizing the voice a split second before I see Mermista reclining on the lip of the fountain. One eyebrow is raised in a look of hostile disdain and her hand is brushing the surface of the water, making slow circles that spread into ripples and disperse. I would suspect her of posing intentionally, except that’s just how this damn princess is.

I grit my teeth. I cannot deal with this right now.

“Last I checked, there’s no rule against taking a walk,” I snap back, putting as much scorn into my voice as I can muster. The response isn’t up to my usual standards: I can still hear echoes of Prime’s voice in the back of my skull. All I want to do is get to the ship and talk to Entrapta.

Her eyes narrow. “Just a nice stroll at four in the morning? Yeah, right.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say with a shaky smirk, running my thumb along my claws as my hands curl into fists. It’s a bad idea to fight the water princess. No matter how much I want to shove her face into the dirt.

Her face falls into a look of boredom, but her eyes stay warily on me. “Couldn’t sleep, decided to hang out by the fountain, end of story.”

“Whatever, princess. I’ll leave you to it.”

She sits up as I start to walk away. One hand is still in the water and her eyes are locked on me menacingly.

“I don’t like you, Catra,” she says, voice dripping with venom. “I know you’ve convinced everybody that you’re a good kitty now, but I saw what you did to Salineas. I will  _ never  _ trust you. And as far as I’m concerned, you will never belong here.”

I fall back into a defensive stance, unable to prevent the growl that rises in my chest. Her words hurt — it turns out Shadow Weaver was right about this too. I’ll never be accepted with the Rebellion. For a moment the guilt and self-loathing almost overwhelms me, but looking at Mermista’s self-satisfied face, it’s easy to make the short jump to anger.

I snort out laugh, emboldened by the answering flicker of fury in Mermista’s eyes. 

“Because you’re so perfect. I don’t remember  _ you  _ defending Etheria — actually, I remember you attacking and nearly destroying the princesses. Some ally to the Rebellion.” Mermista’s face twists, but I’m not done. If she wants to do this, I’m not holding back. “You were perfectly happy to help Prime nearly kill us all. Isn’t that right, little sister?”

I know I’ve hit a nerve as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Mermista had been part of the hive mind for days, maybe even possessed directly by Prime just like I had been, and I’m gambling that he’d spoken to her as well. I can tell I’m right by the look on her face. She stands suddenly on the lip of the fountain, teeth bared in a snarl, and her eyes fill with tears.

“I will  _ end  _ you,” she growls. The water in the fountain next to her sloshes and spills over the sides.

I fold my arms in front of me, smirking back at her. It feels good to be this angry, to have someone right in front of me I can take it all out on. I can see the effect I’m having on Mermista and it makes me feel a little calmer, a little more in control.

“Always hiding behind your powers,” I taunt. “You wouldn’t have a chance against me in a fair fight.”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “Watch me,” she hisses.

I yawn exaggeratedly, stretching my arms above my head. “Sure, princess. Want me to get Sea Hawk down here to take you home? Maybe he can save your ass. Again.”

Mermista throws herself at me with a growl of rage, and I feel a flicker of foreboding quickly replaced by satisfaction.  _ This  _ is more like it.

I easily leap out of the way of her lunge, darting back in and kicking the back of her knee to throw her off balance. She stumbles, turning towards me again and swinging wildly towards my head.

I duck, but she’s quicker than I anticipated and grabs a handful of my short hair, yanking me towards her. I throw all four limbs into her chest, digging my claws into her exposed skin and jumping away as her grip loosens.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” I taunt. The water is still sloshing in the fountain, but Mermista seems committed to her no-magic claim. That works just fine for me.

I go on the offensive, jumping forward and punching her twice in the gut before spinning past and landing on the ground behind her. She doubles over with a groan but jerks her head up, fury in her eyes, and leaps towards me again. I take a step backwards and my foot catches on a root, giving her just enough time to tackle me to the ground. Slashing upwards with my claws, I make contact with the skin of her arms, but she’s lashing out blindly and lands a hit on my eye. 

I see a blinding flash of white and feel pain blossoming through the left side of my face. A copper tang in the back of my throat lets me know that my nose is bleeding. I hiss and shove her bodily off of me with my legs, jumping to my feet. 

We circle each other warily. I know I can take Mermista in an all-out brawl, but my eye is almost swollen shut and with the shock of pain has come the realization that this is… well, kind of stupid. And Adora is going to kill me.

Mermista’s arms are covered in scratches, some of which are bleeding sluggishly, and her lip is swollen from a blow I don’t remember landing. I swipe my hand across my face and it comes back bloody from my possibly broken nose.

And then it just all becomes so absurd and I can’t help it — I burst into a fit of laughter that’s just shy of tears, doubling over with my hands on my thighs. Still cackling, I take a few steps away and sink down on the edge of the fountain. Mermista stays where she is a few yards away, face still set into a scowl, but after a long moment she raises a hand to her lip, winces, and lets out a reluctant snort.

“You’re the worst,” she informs me. I still can’t stop laughing, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes from the pain radiating from my nose and eye socket. “Stop it, you’re freaking me out.”

I subside with a few last chuckles, gingerly wiping tears and blood from my face. Mermista is still standing a few yards away, but she doesn’t look like she’s going to attack me.

“Um, did I hit you so hard you lost your mind?” she asks. Her voice is sardonic, but it doesn’t have as much ice in it as before. Somehow, the poisonous tension between us has eased slightly.

“Like you could.” 

“ _ I’m  _ not the one bleeding,” she shoots back. I point at a long scratch on her arm and she groans. She walks towards the fountain, keeping a careful distance from me, and perches on the edge, rinsing her arm with a tendril of water.

Watching her now without panic and anger clouding my vision, I notice the deep bags under her eyes, the tightness of her face. She looks exhausted.

“Why are you really out here?” I ask. I would normally never ask something like this, but something about the fading adrenaline of the fight and the early-morning isolation of the fountain makes me feel like all bets are off.

She shrugs with one shoulder, focusing on cleaning out the scratches on her other arm. “Can’t sleep. What else is new.”

I sigh and drop my gaze to the water. I can see my eyes gleaming back up at me, blue and yellow. Maybe I’ll never be able to make things right, but I should at least try.

“I know it isn’t enough,” I begin, watching Mermista out of the corner of my eye, “But I’m sorry for the attack on Salineas. I’m sorry for the war and for all the people I hurt. You don’t have to forgive me, but… I just want you to know,” I finish lamely.

When I look up again, Mermista is staring at me, brow furrowed. She looks like she’s trying to work out a difficult puzzle.

“You’re right. You can’t make up for it,” she says at last. I feel my heart sink, but it’s no more than I expected. “Why did you do it?”

I wince. “I… wanted to be in control. I didn’t want to be powerless anymore.” Mermista is still as a statue, but I force myself to continue. “I was angry, and hurt, and tired of things always working out for everyone except for me. I wanted to be so strong that nobody could hurt me or leave me ever again. And… I wanted to prove to Adora that I was strong. That I mattered.”

Her lip quirks and she shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she says. “Why did you change?”

Caught off guard, I stare at her for a second and run my hand through my hair. It strikes me again how much I miss my long hair and how exposed I feel without it.

“Um. Well. On the ship, after Prime took Glimmer… I realized it didn’t matter if I won. None of it mattered at all. And…” It was hard to put into words, how the reason I tore the world apart and the reason I joined the Rebellion was really all the same, wrapped up a whole lifetime of me and Adora. “I realized that I wanted to save Adora, more than I wanted to hurt her for leaving me.” I shake my head in frustration. It’s not right, it’s not all of it, but it’s as close as I can get right now to articulating my decision. “I want to get better at being a good person. I want to show Adora that I can. She’s… everything.”

I end in a whisper, staring at the sculpted fish in the center of the fountain. It’s a pretty pathetic excuse for an explanation.

“I guess I can understand that,” Mermista says. She’s staring up at the moons, carefully avoiding my gaze. “Loving somebody. Hating somebody.”

I can’t help but snort: I don’t think her relationship with Sea Hawk is exactly comparable to mine with Adora. She rolls her eyes. “It’s not the same,  _ obviously _ , but I’m just saying I get it.”

A moment passes quietly, but the silence isn’t as tense as it was earlier.

“So,” Mermista drawls after a while. “What are your nightmares about?” I stare at her and she smirks. “I’m not stupid,  _ little sister _ .”

My hackles rise instinctively, but something about the hint of sad acknowledgment in Mermista’s voice takes the sting out of it.

“Prime,” I say bluntly, “His ship. The… ceremony. His voice.” I shudder.

“What was it like?” Mermista asks quietly. She has her face tipped forward now, casting her face into shadow.

“The ship? Huge, white, cold, full of clones.” But I know that’s not what she’s asking. “It was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” I admit. “He has this pool of green liquid… I saw it happen when he ‘purified’ Hordak. He went into the pool and it filled with electricity… When he came out again, he was blank. Just an empty vessel for Prime’s mind.” I shake my head. I don’t know how to describe the weight of Prime in my head, the excruciating pain as he tore through my memories. “And then noise. His voice, the minds of all the clones. And just complete…”

“Certainty,” Mermista finishes for me. I nod.

“What about you?” I ask.

“No nasty pool of goo,” she replies after a moment. “The chipping was fast. And then I was just Prime and nothing else. Like… a piece of machinery.” Her jaw clenches. “And the worst thing is, I was happy about it. I felt like it was right. Like I belonged with Prime.”

“It wasn’t you,” I say, surprised by the impulse to provide some comfort. “Prime took away our choices. You didn’t want that.”

She sighs heavily but doesn’t say anything else. I study the backs of my hands, feel my heartbeat slow and calm. I feel worlds away from the panic of the nightmare.

I look up to see a tendril of water coming towards my face and throw my hands up instinctively.

“What the hell — !”

“Oops. Sorry,” Mermista drawls. “I was just going to clean up your face. You look like shit.”

I eye the tendril hovering in the air suspiciously and then take a deep breath. “Fine. Do it.”

The water is cold, but Mermista is surprisingly gentle as she rinses my face. As she redirects the stream into the ground, I can see that the water has come away red. She shakes her head and smirks.

“I totally wrecked you,” she declares.

“You wish,” I shoot back. “This is a regular day for me.”

“Your regular day sucks ass.”

I snort and she gives me a half-smile. It’s not quite dawn yet, but the moons are starting to set over the horizon. The urgency of seeing Entrapta is gone: there will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. And Adora is still in bed, warm and sleepy.

“I’m going back to bed,” I decide.

“Enjoy,” Mermista says dryly.

“Don’t stay up too late,” I offer. She shrugs.

“I like to watch the moons set.” Seeing me still standing there, she rolls her eyes. “I’m fine. Go to sleep, Catra.”

“Fine. But if you get sick from staying out all night, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies, waving her hand lazily at me in a dismissal.

Adora is sleeping peacefully when I slip back into the room and I nuzzle up to her side. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by how lucky I am to be able to come back to this, to climb into bed with her and know that she’ll be there when I wake up. I fall asleep curled into her chest.

And wake up abruptly to Adora’s yell.

“Catra! What  _ happened _ ?”

I blearily open one eye, but the other seems to be stuck closed. Reaching up to rub it, I feel a surge of pain and abruptly remember my black eye, the fight with Mermista, and our late-night conversation. Adora’s face is inches away from mine, eyes wide with alarm. I close my eyes again.

“Nothing,” I mumble. “Go back to sleep.”

“I am not going to go back to sleep! Did something attack you? How did this happen?!”

“Adora,” I manage, and force myself to sit up despite the pounding in my head. “Calm down for just a second.” She opens her mouth indignantly, but I cut her off. “I need to wash up and eat something. And then I promise I’ll explain everything.

She narrows her eyes at me and I can see the cogs working. She knows me well enough to realize that if she keeps pushing, I won’t give her any explanation at all. “Fine,” she growls. “But I expect you to tell me everything."

We walk into the cafeteria ten minutes later. I’m stubbornly ignoring the stares my face is eliciting: people should learn to mind their own damn business. The ache in my nose aside, I feel shockingly good. Some part of the weight I’ve been carrying for the last few years has lifted and I feel more well-rested than I have in a long time.

As we leave the breakfast line and find a table, I catch sight of Mermista across the hall. Bruised and scratched, she’s seated next to a very worried-looking Sea Hawk who’s peppering her with questions that she’s completely ignoring. As I watch she glances up, catches my eye, and gives a dry smirk. I nod back, one side of my mouth quirking in a smile.

Adora follows the line of my gaze and her mouth drops open. She stares wildly between me and Mermista, pointing mutely as she struggles to find her words.

“Calm down, Adora,” I say, amused. I set my tray down at a nearby table, take a seat, and start to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out writing fight scenes is really dang hard. As always, thanks for reading, and let me know your thoughts!


End file.
